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Portrait  of  Geoffrey  Chaucer 

From  Hoccleve's  De,  Regimine  Principum, 

MS.  Harley  4866,  L.  gi. 


SELECTIONS  FROM 

CHAUCER 


EDITED  BY 
WILLIAM  ALLAN  NEILSON,  PH.D.,  LL.D, 

PRESIDENT  OF  SMITH  COLLEGE,  FORMERLY  PROFESSOR 
OF  ENGLISH  IN  HARVARD  UNIVERSITY 

AND 
HOWARD  ROLLIN  PATCH,  PH.D. 

PROFESSOR  OF  ENGLISH  IN  SMITH  COLLEGE 


NEW  YORK 
HARCOURT,  BRACE  AND  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  IQ2I,  BY 
HARCOURT,  BRACE  AND  COMPANY,  INC. 


Q 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


TO  G.  L.  K. 

IN  GRATITUDE  AND  AFFECTION 


M92263 


PREFACE 

IN  the  making  of  this  book  the  editors  have  had  in  mind 
both  the  general  reader  and  the  student.  The  texts  have 
been  selected  to  represent,  as  fully  as  a  volume  of  selections 
may,  the  many  sides  of  Chaucer's  genius  and  the  variety  of 
his  poetic  forms.  The  introduction  is  meant  to  supply  the 
necessary  background  of  information,  and  deals  with  the 
character  of  the  Medieval  period  in  general  and  of  fourteenth 
century  England  in  particular,  the  biography  of  the  poet, 
the  dates  and  sources  of  his  poems,  and  his  quab'ty  as  an 
artist.  A  concise  grammar  of  Middle  English,  a  guide  to 
pronunciation,  and  a  glossary  afford  the  foundation  for  a 
thorough  grasp  of  the  language. 

Skeat's  text,  which  has  been  taken  as  a  basis,  has  been 
collated  with  the  reprints  of  the  Chaucer  Society,  and  a 
number  of  principles  applied,  which,  it  is  hoped,  will  sim- 
plify the  task  of  the  student  by  a  greater  degree  of  normali- 
zation without  any  loss  of  authenticity.  Important  changes 
from  Skeat's  readings,  unless  supported  by  manuscript  au- 
thority, are  recorded  in  the  Variant  Readings. 

It  has  been  possible  to  include  the  large  variety  of  Chau- 
cer's works  here  presented  only  by  resorting  to  the  omission 
of  certain  passages.  The  editors  are  well  aware  of  the  loss 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  scholar  which  is  involved  in  a 
cutting  of  the  text,  however  skillfully  performed.  For  the 
exhaustive  study  of  the  poet,  the  present  volume  will,  of 
course,  not  suffice.  The  problem  which  the  editors  faced 
was  the  quite  different  one  of  selecting  as  much  of  Chaucer's 
work  as  might  be  read  in  a  single  college  course,  and  of  making 
such  a  course  as  rich  as  possible.  To  print  in  full  the  poems 
chosen  would  have  meant  the  inclusion  of  a  smaller  number 
of  poems,  and  they  were  already  painfully  conscious  of  how 
much  of  high  value  had  to  be  omitted  in  any  case.  Con- 
densation, then,  seemed  the  lesser  evil.  As  often  as  possible 
the  passages  omitted  were  those  of  least  interest;  but  the 

iii 


iv  PREFACE 

clarity  and  continuity  of  the  plot  were  regarded  first  in  de- 
termining what  must  be  retained. 

It  must  be  added  most  emphatically,  however,  that  the 
editors  do  not  feel  that  by  this  method  of  reducing  the  text 
it  is  in  any  sense  "improved."  In  the  Troilus,  for  example, 
the  loss  of  the  charming  scene  in  the  garden  (Book  II)  with 
Antigone's  song  of  love,  and  again  that  of  the  dialogue  with 
Cassandra  (Book  V),  are  losses  for  which  any  gain  in  com- 
pactness is  no  ultimate  compensation.  No  doubt,  too,  there 
is  a  loss  in  proportion  in  the  poems,  especially  in  the  Hous  of 
Fame,  where  Book  I  is  greatly  cut  down.  Eventually  every 
one  will  want  to  read  all  the  poems  in  the  full  form  as  they 
have  come  down  to  us.  But  for  facilitating  instruction  in 
the  ordinary  college  course,  where  some  abridgment  has  al- 
ways been  necessary,  as  well  as  for  making  a  book  of  con- 
venient size,  what  has  seemed  to  count  most  in  the  Chau- 
cerian tradition  has  been  gathered  together,  and  it  is  hoped 
that  even  in  their  present  form  the  poems  may  be  enjoyed 
for  themselves. 

For  the  choice  of  contents  and  the  treatment  of  the  text, 
the  editors  are  jointly  responsible,  as  they  are  for  all  errors 
of  fact  and  judgment.  But  by  far  the  larger  share  of  the 
labor  in  the  preparation  of  the  volume  has  fallen  to  Dr. 
Patch,  to  whom  thus  belongs  whatever  credit  the  book  may 
earn.  Professor  K.  S.  Woodward  has  read  the  proof  of  the 
text  and  the  introduction,  and  Mrs.  Helen  K.  Patch  has 
rendered  valuable  and  laborious  service  in  the  preparation 
of  the  glossary.  To  both  of  these  ladies  the  editors  wish  to 
express  their  warm  gratitude. 

W.  A.  NEILSON. 
Northampton,  June,  1921. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

THE   INTRODUCTION: —                                                                   PAGE 
I.  CHAUCER'S  LIFE  AND  TIMES vii 

1.  The  Background vii 

2.  England  in  the  Fourteenth  Century xiv 

3.  Chaucer's  Life xvi 

4.  The  Chronology  of  Chaucer's  Works xxiii 

5.  Chaucer's  Learning xxiii 

II.  CHAUCER'S  LITERARY  ART xxviii 

III.  THE  PRESENT  TEXT xxxvii 

IV.  THE  LANGUAGE xxxviii 

V.  BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  SUGGESTIONS 1 

THE  SOUNDS  OF  CHAUCER  's  LANGUAGE lii 

THE  TEXT: 

THE  BOOK  OF  THE  DUCHESSE i 

THR  Hous  OF  FAME 27 

THE  PARLEMENT  OF  FOULES 79 

TROILUS  AND  CRISEYDE 100 

WORDES  UNTO  ADAM 257 

BALADE  FROM  THE  LEGENDE  OF  GOOD  WOMEN 258 

TROUTHE 259 

LENVOY  DE  CH\UCER  A  SCOGAN 260 

LENVOY  DE  CHAUCER  A  BURTON 262 

THE  COMPLEINTE  TO  HIS  PURS 263 

THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES 264-416 

The  Prologe 264 

The  Knightes  Tale 286 

The  Prioresses  Tale 337 

The  Nonne  Preestes  Tale 344 

The  Pardoners  Tale 365 

The  Prologe  of  the  Wyves  Tale  of  Bathe 378 

The  Clerkes  Tale 387 

VARIANT  READINGS 417 

GLOSSARY 423 

v 


THE  INTRODUCTION 

I.  CHAUCER'S  LIFE  AND  TIMES 

i.  THE  BACKGROUND 

Chaucer  lived  in  the  latter  part  of  the  period  called  the 
Middle  Ages,  a  term  which  is  variously  applied,  but  which 
may  be  safely  used  to  cover  all  the  centuries  of  Christian  cul- 
ture that  preceded  the  Renaissance.  In  England  the  full 
development  of  the  Renaissance  does  not  appear  until  after 
1500;  but  long  before  that  various  signs  of  its  coming  were 
perceptible.  Indeed  during  the  late  fourteenth  century,  in 
the  active  expression  of  discontent  among  the  lower  classes, 
which  were  eager  to  have  their  part  of  the  increasing  luxuries, 
in  the  spreading  corruption  among  the  representatives  of  the 
Church,  in  the  elaboration  of  costume  regardless  of  utility 
or  logic,  we  may  find  evidences  of  that  disintegration  of 
Medieval  manners  and  morals  which  marked  the  closing 
of  the  period.  In  order  to  comprehend  intelligently  the 
traditions  which  formed  the  poet's  milieu  it  is  necessary  to 
attempt  some  characterization  of  the  Middle  Ages  as  a 
whole. 

This  is  no  easy  task;  for,  in  the  first  place,  the  decades  of 
the  period  mark  changes,  and  the  centuries  have  each  a 
distinct  individuality  of  their  own,  so  that  a  failure  to  dis- 
criminate between  different  stages  in  the  growth  of  the 
epoch  is  responsible  for  much  misunderstanding  of  what 
constituted  its  life.  We  cannot  bundle  together  as  equally 
characteristic  of  Medievalism  the  ignorance  prevalent  in  the 
early  centuries,  the  early  struggle  against  barbaric  invasions, 
and  the  rich  artistic  fruition  of  the  thirteenth  century  or 
the  achievements  in  philosophy  and  letters.  Furthermore, 
modern  prejudice  against  tradition  has  led  to  the  assump- 
tion that  all  features  of  the  past  which  have  not  endured 
have  necessarily  been  outworn  and  may  therefore  be  disre- 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

garded.  The  morbid  endeavor  to  glean  scandals  from  ac- 
counts of  the  monasteries  and  to  ignore  the  virtues,  the  ap- 
preciation of  Medieval  art  purely  for  its  decorative  value 
apart  from  its  purpose,  such  modes  of  approach  have  not 
served  the  honest  desire  to  understand  the  Medieval  point 
of  view.  It  is  necessary  to  lay  aside  some  of  our  modern 
intolerance  and  dogmatism  in  order  to  give  due  fairness  to  a 
study  of  what  was  a  quite  different  period  from  the  one  in 
which  we  live.  Remembering,  then,  the  difficulty  of  trying 
to  summarize  all  the  centuries,  a  difficulty  which  is  only 
partially  met  by  dealing  with  the  thought  rather  than  with 
the  events,  and  attempting  to  view  the  facts  with  candor,  we 
may  take  up  the  chief  phases  of  Medieval  life  according  to  the 
way  in  which  the  interests  group  themselves  conveniently, — 
those  which  are  predominantly  artistic,  religious,  or  social. 

Under  the  heading  of  ARTISTIC  PRODUCTION  it  is  not  too 
arbitrary  to  include  literature.  Like  all  of  the  other  expres- 
sions of  the  artistic  instinct,  the  literature  of  that  time  shows 
in  general  a  passion  for  enlightening  mankind  which  fills  it 
with  a  lofty  idealism,  but  which  sometimes  leads  to  a  sacrifice 
of  proportion  or  a  too  great  schematism.  The  long  treatises 
on  sin,  the  complicated  allegories,  the  moral  poems,  illustrate 
faults  of  this  kind;  and,  again,  the  lyrics  which  hymn  the 
various  motifs  of  love  are  a  notable  exception  to  the  rule. 
On  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  great  body  of  Medieval  litera- 
ture intended  primarily  for  entertainment.  To  such  a  class 
belong  the  romances  of  Troy,  Thebes,  and  Rome,  and  those 
of  Charlemagne  and  of  Arthur,  where  the  artistic  technique  is 
almost  accidental  because  of  the  lack  of  self-consciousness  in 
the  composition.  Here  the  morality  is  implicit  in  the  struc- 
ture, where  sometimes  pagan  and  Christian  ethics  collide. 
The  Medieval  artist  was  more  concerned  with  what  he  was 
doing  than  with  how  it  was  done.  It  is  typical  that  in  the 
thirteenth  century  men  were  interested  in  the  philosophy  of 
the  Classics,  while  Renaissance  figures  like  Petrarch  cared 
more  about  their  literary  form.  The  early  painters  were 
occupied  with  the  sincere  delineation  of  scriptural  subjects; 
but  as  the  Renaissance  draws  near,  the  emphasis  on  beauty  is 


CHAUCER'S  LIFE  AND  TIMES  ix 

more  and  more  apparent.  Although  there  is  a  lack  of  tech- 
nical experience  in  the  early  Siennese  and  Florentine  paint- 
ings, the  Blessed  Virgin  in  some  of  these  works  is  vastly  more 
acceptable  as  the  mother  of  Christ  than  in  some  of  the  more 
realistic  representations  of  later  times. 

But  however  much  art  was  busied  with  its  idealism,  there 
was  not  a  complete  sacrifice  of  beauty;  rather  it  was  subor- 
dinated to  convey  the  spiritual  meaning.  Possibly  the  great- 
est example  of  this  tendency  is  to  be  found  in  that  noblest 
embodiment  of  all  things  Medieval,  Gothic  architecture. 
Other  forms  of  art,  like  manuscript  illumination,  decorated 
bindings,  and  the  like,  may  have  to  give  way  before  some  of 
the  modern  accomplishments  in  corresponding  fields;  the 
glass  of  the  cathedrals  stands  perhaps  unique  in  loveliness. 
But  surely  the  splendor  and  the  dedication  of  Gothic  architec- 
ture is  unrivaled  by  anything  that  later  ages  have  seen 
produced  by  their  own  draftsmen;  and  here  the  spiritual 
yearning,  the  exaltation,  the  prayer,  of  the  Middle  Ages  are 
carried  in  the  upward  sweep  of  the  lines  in  a  structure  ma- 
jestic with  beauty  and  fervent  with  truth.  Even  the  lack  of 
completion  of  some  of  the  buildings,  the  chapels  still  to  be 
added  and  the  towers  yet  unraised,  expresses  the  spirit  of 
incompleteness  characteristic  of  the  thought,  the  striving 
toward  infinity  compared  with  the  Greek  calm  and  finish. 

Medieval  art  still  commends  itself  to  our  appreciation;  and 
more  or  less  successful  imitations  of  its  works  constantly 
have  their  vogue.  In  some  respects  the  PHILOSOPHY  of  the 
times  is  likely  to  be  harder  for  us  to  understand.  We  think 
of  the  man  of  that  period  as  dogmatic  and  intolerant,  as 
closing  his  mind  to  any  conception  of  the  changes  and  va- 
rieties that  life  presents.  But  however  arrogant  his  position 
may  seem  to  us,  however  unintellectual  his  views,  he  was 
fundamentally  humble  and  logically  consistent.  Man,  he 
thought,  was  too  limited  in  experience  and  power,  and  too 
open  to  prejudice  and  self-deception,  to  construct  in  his  own 
lifetime  a  religion  on  which  he  could  safely  depend.  Even 
if  he  was  gifted  with  righteousness,  he  was  also  tainted  with 
weakness  rendering  him  susceptible  of  evil;  and  if  he  were 


x  INTRODUCTION 

forced  to  rely  on  his  own  observations  and  principles  he 
might  too  easily  see  the  universe  simply  as  he  wanted  to  find 
it.  Unaided  science  could  never  leave  earth;  Virgil,  the  in- 
telligence, cannot  guide  Dante  beyond  Purgatory.  Therefore 
it  was  reasonable  to  suppose  that  a  definite  revelation  would 
come  to  mankind  which  would  give  man  the  truth  sufficient 
for  his  spiritual  development.  Such  a  revelation  must  come 
in  a  form  that  would  allow  no  doubt;  for  otherwise  the  need 
of  a  life-long  test  of  its  claims  would  introduce  all  the  difficul- 
ties found  in  a  life  without  revelation.  The  united  western 
Church  testified  that  such  a  revelation  had  been  made,  and 
that  its  priests  were  consecrated  to  the  interpretation  of  its 
doctrines.  When  it  was  tried  this  revealed  religion  worked 
well:  it  accounted  for  man's  life  and  gave  it  significance;  it 
served  to  control  it;  and  it  gave  a  seemingly  valid  expression 
to  man's  instinctive  need  for  religious  experience. 

The  organized  body  to  which  this  revelation  had  been  en- 
trusted was  necessarily  dogmatic  in  the  pronouncements  of 
its  truth.  In  the  face  of  divine  authority  doubt  had  no  value 
whatsoever;  a  heretic  was  simply  an  eccentric,  and  error 
must  not  be  tolerated.  Intellectual  stagnation  was  by  no 
means  a  concomitant  of  such  a  view;  for  one  could  build  on 
the  basis  afforded  by  the  knowledge  of  the  universal  scheme, 
and  apply  the  truth  to  individual  instances.  Philosophy, 
therefore,  was  chiefly  deductive;  and  science  in  the  modern 
sense,  although  its  Medieval  successes  have  been  often 
underrated,  did  not  advance  very  far.  The  physical  incon- 
veniences resulting,  like  bad  roads,  poor  medical  attention, 
and  danger  of  various  kinds,  did  not  seem  very  important, 
because  life  after  death  was  so  much  more  important  than 
the  prolongation  of  life.  Medieval  philosophy  has  often  been 
judged  by  its  poorest  examples;  but  its  best  form,  that  of 
scholasticism,  gave  the  world  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle 
applied  to  Christianity  and  furnished  thereby  a  more  funda- 
mentally humanistic  basis  for  life  than  is  to  be  found  in  any 
of  the  Renaissance  appreciation  of  the  Classics.  According  to 
modern  opinion,  perhaps,  the  great  thirteenth  century 
philosophers  like  Albertus  Magnus  and  Thomas  Aquinas 


CHAUCER'S  LIFE  AND  TIMES  xi 

were  not  intellectually  free  inasmuch  as  they  submitted  to 
ecclesiastical  dogma.  The  man  of  the  Middle  Ages  would 
have  answered  that  the  dogma  was  a  mere  statement  of  the 
truth;  in  the  words  of  Boethius  (at  the  beginning  of  this  era) : 

"For  if  thou  rememberest  of  what  country  thou  art,  it  is  not  governed 
as  Athens  was  wont  to  be,  by  the  multitude,  but  'one  is  its  ruler,  one  its 
king,'  who  desires  to  have  abundance  of  citizens,  and  not  to  have  them 
driven  away.  To  be  governed  by  whose  authority,  and  to  be  subject  to 
her  laws,  is  the  greatest  freedom  that  can  be."  x 

"But  the  minds  of  men  must  needs  be  more  free  when  they  conserve 
themselves  in  the  contemplation  of  God,  and  less  when  they  come  to 
their  bodies,  and  yet  less  when  they  are  bound  with  earthly  fetters.  But 
their  greatest  bondage  is  when,  giving  themselves  to  vices,  they  lose 
possession  of  their  own  reason."  2 

Doubt  is  slavery,  and  the  truth  shall  make  men  free.  Grant- 
ing, then,  the  physical  disabilities  of  the  time,  and  granting 
even  moral  lapses — since  the  people  whom  the  Middle  Ages 
originally  discovered  and  educated  were  pagans  at  a  pretty 
low  stage  of  moral  enlightenment — it  must  be  recognized 
that  the  religious  fervor  of  the  thirteenth  century,  which  in- 
spired the  artistic,  philosophic,  and  social  life,  would  be  a 
glory  to  any  age. 

The  Church  played  a  most  intimate  part  in  the  SOCIAL 
LIFE  of  the  people,  because,  in  the  first  place,  it  was  politically 
independent  of,  and  sometimes  superior  to,  the  state,  and, 
secondly,  because  it  made  its  influence  felt  in  the  every  day 
matters  of  personal  activity.  The  Crusades  gave  a  legitimate 
opportunity  for  the  expression  of  the  combative  and  ambi- 
tious instincts  in  men ;  the  monasteries  opened  the  way  for  the 
fulfillment  of  the  desire  for  mystical  retirement  from  the 
world;  the  guilds,  which  were  dedicated  to  their  tasks  under 
the  names  of  patron  saints,  bound  the  workmen  together  in 
mutual  support  and  responsibility  in  a  way  that  called  forth 
the  most  conscientious  work  from  each  laborer;  and  the  local 

1  Boethius,  the  Loeb  Classical  Library,  London,  1918,  the  Consolation 
of  Philosophy,  translated  by  H,  F.  Stewart  and  E.  K,  Rand,  p.  159. 

2  Ibid.,  p.  371. 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

churches,  by  their  various  feast-days  and  daily  ceremonies, 
kept  religious  ideals  strongly  before  the  minds  of  the  people 
not  merely  on  Sunday  but  on  all  the  days  of  the  week.  Too 
much  has  been  made  in  recent  times  of  the  religious  and 
social  oppression  of  the  average  man.  It  is  true  that  the 
lack  of  printing  hampered  education;  but  education  was 
furnished  as  thoroughly  as  possible  under  the  circumstances, 
and  the  germ  of  democratic  ideals  may  be  seen  at  least  as 
far  back  as  the  Magna  Charta.  Although  the  feudal  system 
prevented  any  realization  of  the  principle  of  equal  oppor- 
tunity, it  served  to  check  inordinate  ambitions  on  the  part  of 
the  serf  to  leap  into  the  nobility  in  a  day,  and  it  put  the  re- 
sponsibility for  government  and  social  power  in  the  hands  of 
people  trained  for  generations  to  its  necessities.  At  its  worst 
this  feature  meant  the  giving  of  power  to  decadent  families 
with  all  the  attendant  evils;  at  its  best  it  meant  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  noblest  standards  in  art  as  well  as  society. 

The  educational  principle  of  the  Middle  Ages  was  that 
which  to-day  underlies  and  animates  the  Liberal  Arts.  In 
certain  aspects  it  was  doubtless  impractical,  but  no  more  so 
than  the  culture  of  any  period.  Apart  from  literature  and 
philosophy  and  some  rudimentary  science,  the  Bible  formed 
the  staple  of  popular  knowledge,  and  its  text  was  widely 
known  in  various  forms,  from  scriptural  paraphrases  in  the 
vernacular  and  dramatic  renderings  to  the  Vulgate  itself. 
Women  were  often  educated,  as  a  line  of  celebrated  ladies 
from  the  nun  Hrosvitha  to  the  militant  Christine  de  Pisan 
will  testify;  an  essentially  Medieval  contribution  is  the 
adoration  of  womanhood  in  the  dolce  stil  nuow  of  Italy, 
the  service  des  dames  of  France,  and  the  cult  of  the  Virgin, 
which  together  established  the  tenets  of  chivalry  towards 
women. 

To  the  institutions  of  the  Middle  Ages  the  world  of  to-day 
owes  much.  Chivalry  contributed  much  as  a  civilizing  force 
in  ways  that  are  not  to  be  confused  with  the  superficial  rites 
with  which  it  is  so  often  identified.  The  discipline  of  the 
humanistic  philosophy,  which  may  prove  to  be  a  safeguard 
against  some  of  the  dangers  of  the  modern  world,  the  sincere 


CHAUCER'S  LIFE  AND  TIMES  xiii 

religious  mysticism,  which  we  associate  particularly  with 
St.  Francis  of  Assisi,  and  the  use  of  art  to  contribute  not 
merely  to  man's  sensuous  experience  but  to  his  spiritual 
welfare,  are  opportunities  that  are  still  open  to  modern  life. 
In  the  Renaissance,  features  like  these  were  abandoned  only 
temporarily  if  at  all.  Philosophy,  having  traveled  far  with 
deductive  logic,  naturally  turned  to  inductive  research  as  an 
alternative,  and  began  to  test  what  had  been  previously 
taken  as  assumptions;  the  result  was,  in  some  quarters  a 
rigorous  readjustment,  in  others  a  greater  faith  in  the  assump- 
tions than  in  the  tests  applied  and  the  further  assumptions 
that  their  use  involved,  and  in  general  people  were,  perhaps, 
less  confident  and  more  certain.  Science  gained  enormously, 
and  its  practical  achievements  drew  the  attention  and  ulti- 
mately the  respect  of  the  world.  Luxuries  were  afforded 
thereby  which  brought  ardent  support  to  its  undertakings. 
Through  the  Middle  Ages  the  commoner  may  be  detected 
more  and  more  asserting  his  personality  and  demanding  a 
recognition  of  his  powers,  until  finally  Piers  Plowman  cele- 
brates his  virtue  and  he  serves  as  a  balance  to  the  nobility  and 
a  corrective  to  the  priesthood.  The  influence  of  the  Church 
was  gradually  diminished  because  its  representatives  gave 
themselves  up  to  the  increasing  corruptions  of  the  times 
which  the  growth  of  luxury  and  the  unmoral  art  induced. 
The  world  was  occupied  with  material  interests  like  explora- 
tions, inventions,  added  wealth  and  comfort.  If  its  spiritual 
guide  failed  now  it  was  because  men,  who  had  free  will, 
chose  the  obvious  and  abundant  delights.  But  the  testimony 
of  the  older  scheme  remained,  and  its  morality  at  least  was 
called  upon  when  the  inevitable  reaction  came  in  the  period 
known  as  the  Reformation.  And  if  to-day  we  can  bring  our- 
selves to  take  counsel  with  tradition,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that 
we  may  look  back  with  candid  minds  to  some  of  the  char- 
acteristics of  the  past,  to  the  discipline,  the  moral  responsi- 
bility, and — that  finer  breath  of  religion — mysticism,  which 
flourished  during  the  Middle  Ages,  and  that  we  may  find  an 
application  of  them  for  our  own  times.  Anything  that  con- 
tributes to  a  proper  understanding  of  the  day  when  these 


xiv  INTRODUCTION 

cardinal  virtues  flourished  seems  to  have  its  raison  d'etre; 
and  to  such  a  purpose  this  volume  may  well  be  dedicated. 

2.  ENGLAND  IN  THE  FOURTEENTH  CENTURY 

Even  with  the  loss  of  Scotland  at  the  outset,  the  political 
situation  of  England  in  the  fourteenth  century  promised  to 
be  strong.  As  part  of  the  Hundred  Years'  War,  Edward  III, 
who  laid  claim  to  the  crown  of  France,  carried  on  successful 
invasions  marked  by  the  Battles  of  Crecy  (1346)  and  Poitiers 
(1356);  and  at  the  Peace  of  Bretigny  (1360),  although  he 
gave  up  his  claim  to  the  crown,  he  was  ceded  a  vast  expanse  of 
territory  including  the  Duchy  of  Aquitaine  and  a  large  por- 
tion of  the  country  south  of  the  Loire.  After  his  death  (1377), 
however,  his  successor,  Richard  II,  was  more  seriously  occu- 
pied with  domestic  difficulties  in  England  and  failed  to  retain 
the  inherited  power  abroad.  These  difficulties  included  the 
results  of  the  bubonic  plague  which  in  1348-49  had  dev- 
astated English  homes,  and  had  left  few  laborers  to  satisfy 
the  needs  of  the  country.  Because  of  the  losses  incurred 
in  various  ways  during  the  plagues,  the  lords  of  the 
manors  desired  to  secure  labor  at  its  lowest  terms;  the 
laborers,  on  the  other  hand,  being  reduced  in  number, 
could  command  higher  wages  than  ever  before.  The  Statute 
of  Laborers  of  1351,  intended  to  fix  the  rates  according 
to  the  conditions  known  before  the  plague,  failed  to 
relieve  the  tension.  Revolts  of  the  lower  classes  were  led 
by  John  Ball,  a  socialist  who  wanted  to  abolish  rank  and 
property,  and  by  Wat  Tyler  and  Jack  Straw.  Conspiracy  of  a 
mild  type  weakened  the  power  of  Richard,  who  might  have 
had  the  assistance  of  his  uncle  John  of  Gaunt  but  for  intrigue 
and  misunderstanding.  Two  long  truces  (1390-95)  kept 
France  from  interfering  for  part  of  the  time,  and  a  peace 
which  lasted  twenty-five  years  was  concluded  in  1396,  when 
Richard  took  as  his  second  wife,  Isabella,  the  daughter  of 
Charles  VI.  But  although  Richard  succeeded  in  keeping  the 
country  out  of  war  for  a  while,  England's  possessions  in 
France  were  diminished  to  merely  Calais  and  a  small  strip  of 


CHAUCER'S  LIFE  AND  TIMES  xv 

territory  along  the  coast.  His  rule  had  been  somewhat 
arbitrary,  the  turmoil  in  England  was  too  much  for  him,  and 
after  his  abdication,  it  was  left  to  Henry  IV  (1399)  to  win 
back  the  lost  foreign  power. 

From  the  close  contact  with  France  during  this  period  and 
also  from  direct  negotiations  with  the  continent  came  some  of 
the  changes  in  social  life  that  appear  at  this  time.  When 
Anne  of  Bohemia,  Richard's  first  wife,  came  to  London,  she 
brought  startling  fashions  which  immediately  pervaded 
society.  These  were  ornaments  of  dress  of  a  kind  already 
familiar  on  the  continent  which  prepare  the  way  for  the 
superfluous  puffs  and  ruffs  of  the  Renaissance.  In  Italy 
Boccaccio  and  Petrarch  were  evincing  an  interest  in  Greek 
and  Latin,  not  so  much  for  the  learning  as  for  the  entertain- 
ment and  artistic  enjoyment  to  be  derived;  and  their  manu- 
scripts came  into  English  hands.  The  culture  from  new 
universities  was  spreading  abroad.  On  the  other  hand,  in 
England  from  1349  on,  the  education  of  children  in  English 
became  more  general,  superseding  the  French  that  had  been 
prevalent  hitherto;  and  under  Richard,  with  the  English 
independence  of  the  control  of  French  culture,  literature  in 
the  English  vernacular  began  markedly  to  flourish.  The 
French  romances  were,  many  of  them,  translated,  and  a 
sturdy  English  idiom  appears  in  works  like  the  allegory 
Piers  Plowman.  As  another  manifestation  of  English  life 
came  the  assertion  of  the  middle-class  consciousness  in  the 
protestantism  of  Lollardry. 

Wycliffe  and  the  Lollards  launched  their  attack  against 
the  Church  like  the  revolt  of  the  peasants  against  their  lords. 
They  denied  the  authority  of  the  Pope,  declared  that  the 
Scriptures  were  a  complete  revelation  in  themselves,  and 
set  up  their  own  dogmas  in  place  of  the  old.  Wycliffe  pub- 
lished his  own  translation  of  the  Bible,  and  spread  through 
the  country  a  group  of  lay  preachers  to  disseminate  his 
views.  For  a  time  he  was  supported  by  John  of  Gaunt,  who, 
however,  did  little  more  than  afford  him  protection,  and 
could  not  follow  him  in  his  subversive  opinions. 

In  many  aspects  of  the  period  one  can  detect,  as  we  have 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

said,  the  attempt  to  overturn  the  older  scheme  of  life  and  to 
substitute  a  strongly  individualistic  philosophy.  One  mani- 
festation of  this  change  is  to  be  found  in  the  growing  sympa- 
thy for  the  lower  classes.  Chaucer,  it  will  be  seen,  introduces 
the  middle  classes  to  literature  because  by  the  latter  part  of 
the  century  they  were  inescapable.  In  the  past  they  had 
figured  in  hardly  more  than  the  fabliau  or  the  exemplum. 
Lollardry  shows  not  merely  a  desire  to  correct  the  religious 
abuses  of  the  times,  but  to  establish  what  was  really  a  totally 
different  conception  of  the  Church.  The  clamor  of  the 
peasant  uprisings  could  not  be  stilled  by  temporary  measures, 
but  the  cry  of  anarchy  was  intermingled.  And  yet  the 
English  people  in  general  do  not  appear  to  have  abandoned 
their  old  loyalties.  In  this  respect  Chaucer  seems  to  be 
representative:  he  goes  as  far  as  the  Lollards  in  religious 
sincerity  (but  this  quality  is  characteristic  of  Dante  as  well) 
and  nothing  that  he  says  can  be  construed  as  heretical; 
characters  from  the  lower  classes  take  part  in  the  Caunterbury 
Tales,  but  there  is  no  apparent  desire  to  ignore  differences  in 
social  station.  On  the  whole,  Chaucer  and  the  fourteenth 
century  were  still  Medieval. 

3.  CHAUCER'S  LIFE 

Among  all  the  known  facts  with  regard  to  Chaucer's  career 
the  most  salient  is  that  his  good  fortune  furnished  him  with 
an  environment  which  was  supremely  well  suited  to  develop 
his  particular  kind  of  genius.  He  described  the  life  and 
manners  of  all  ranks  of  society,  and  he  was  able  to  do  it  so 
concretely  partly  because  he  had  the  opportunity  of  knowing 
them  all  well.  He  himself  sprang  from  the  middle  classes. 
His  grandfather,  Robert,  was  a  collector  of  the  customs  on 
wines;  his  father,  John,  was  a  vintner  who  early  won  a  posi- 
tion as  attendant  to  the  king.  Like  many  another  family 
Chaucer's  was  gradually  making  its  way  upward.  He  was 
born  about  1340,  and  by  1357  he  was  in  the  service  of  the 
Countess  Elizabeth,  wife  of  Lionel  Duke  of  Clarence,  as  the 
Household  Accounts  show,  referring  to  an  expenditure  for  his 


CHAUCER'S  LIFE  AND  TIMES  xvii 

clothes.  From  then  on  he  was  in  almost  constant  touch  with 
royalty:  in  1359-60  he  traveled  with  an  expedition  to  France 
under  Edward  III,  and  was  taken  prisoner  near  Rheims, 
where  the  king  ransomed  him.  He  earned  enough  confidence 
to  be  later  entrusted  to  carry  certain  letters  from  Calais  to 
England.  In  1367  he  was  a  "  valet  of  the  king's  household," 
and  as  "dtiectus  valettus  noster"  was  granted  an  annual  salary 
of  twenty  marks  (a  little  over  £13  in  the  money  of  that  time). 
By  1369  he  was  again  in  military  service  in  France.  The 
year  1372  found  him  one  of  the  king's  esquires,  and  other 
royal  favors  came  to  him  from  time  to  tune,  such  as  the 
daily  pitcher  of  wine  granted  in  1374  (later  changed  to  an 
annuity  of  twenty  marks).  Through  his  entire  life,  in  fact,  he 
seems  to  have  had  opportunity  to  know  the  world  at  court, 
and  yet  his  military  service,  his  travels,  his  duties  in  London, 
brought  him  into  contact  with  all  social  classes. 

How  really  intimate  he  was  with  any  of  the  royal  per- 
sonages it  is  hard  to  say.  The  question  is  somewhat  com- 
plicated by  the  fact  that  Chaucer  was  subject  in  part  to  the 
system  of  literary  patronage:  for  example,  the  Book  of  the 
Duchesse  was  written  in  memory  of  Blanche,  John  of  Gaunt's 
first  wife,  in  1369  or  1370,  though  the  poem  itself  suggests 
genuinely  friendly  feelings  for  the  man  in  black.  He  wrote 
a  late  addition  to  the  Monk's  Tale  in  order  to  include 
an  account  of  "worthy  Petro,  glorie  of  Spayne,"  the  father 
of  John  of  Gaunt's  second  wife,  Constance.  To  this  gentle 
lady  the  saintly  Constance  of  the  Man  of  Lawe's  Tale  may 
be  a  further  allusion.  Certain  words  of  advice  in  the  Phisi- 
cien's  Tale  to  "maistresses"  "that  lordes  doghtres  han  in 
governaunce"  have  been  taken  to  be  directed  toward  Kathe- 
rine  Swynford,  who  was  a  governess  in  the  Duke's  household 
and  who  became  his  third  wife.  Very  possibly  she  was 
Chaucer's  sister-in-law;  but  at  any  rate  the  passage  implies 
considerable  familiarity.  As  to  what  personal  allusions 
should  be  read  into  such  poems  as  the  Compleynte  of  Mars, 
the  Hous  of  Fame,  and  the  Parlement  of  Foides,  we  remain 
practically  in  ignorance  as  yet.  Various  suggestions  and 
interpretations  have  been  made,  but  none  seems  to  be  wholly 


xviii  INTRODUCTION 

satisfactory.  Possibly  here  are  to  be  found  the  results  of 
royal  patronage,  as  also  in  the  Legende  of  Good  Women.  And 
Chaucer  had  some  return,  not  only  from  the  king  but  also 
from  John  of  Gaunt,  who  gave  him  a  pension  of  ten  pounds  in 
1374,  and  in  1377  an  annuity  of  twenty  marks  more.  It  is 
a  strange  fact  that  John  of  Gaunt  neglected  to  mention 
Chaucer  in  his  will,  but  its  importance  may  be  overestimated. 
We  may  be  sure  that  the  poet  was  on  terms  of  intimacy  with 
several  figures  at  court;  his  personality,  however  reserved, 
was  calculated  to  win  him  affectionate  regard  from  high  as 
well  as  low. 

Chaucer's  marriage,  probably  as  early  as  1366,  further 
connected  him  with  court  life.  From  the  position  of  domi- 
cella  to  the  Queen,  Philippa  Chaucer  went  into  the  service  of 
the  Lancaster  household,  and  received  from  that  source  an 
annual  pension  of  ten  pounds  in  1372,  and  in  1373  six  silver- 
gilt  buttons  and  a  "botoner"  (button-hook).  Further  gifts 
are  recorded  up  until  1382.  Practically  nothing  is  known  of 
Chaucer's  wedded  life;  and  although  his  allusions  to  his 
fortunes  in  love  and  his  experience  in  wedlock  do  not  suggest 
felicity,  these  are  often  conventional  jokes  and  need  not  be 
taken  too  seriously.  After  all,  the  bitterness  in  the  Envoy  to 
Bukton  and  in  the  remarks  of  the  Merchant  in  the  Caunter- 
bury  Tales,  even  if  it  is  read  literally,  is  offset  by  the  optimism 
of  the  Franklin  discoursing  on  the  theme  of  marriage.  Phil- 
ippa died  about  1387;  and  Chaucer  was  left,  perhaps  with 
two  sons:  Lewis  and  Thomas.  Much  of  Chaucer's  love- 
poetry  is,  of  course,  based  merely  on  the  conventional  themes 
of  his  time,  drawn  often  from  French  literature,  which  may 
have  been  brought  more  vividly  to  his  attention  by  his 
interest  in  the  affairs  of  court,  where  French  influence  was 
still  strong  even  after  the  days  of  Edward  III,  and  by  his 
travels. 

His  standing  at  court  undoubtedly  gave  him  the  oppor- 
tunities to  go  abroad,  which  meant  so  much  for  the  develop- 
ment of  his  art.  His  early  training  was  fostered  under 
French  influence;  but  later,  diplomatic  missions  took  him 
also  to  Italy,  where  he  went  just  possibly  as  early  as  1368  and 


CHAUCER'S  LIFE  AND  TIMES  xix 

certainly  in  1372  or  1373.  The  chance  of  meeting  Petrarch  on 
one  of  these  journeys  he  may  actually  have  enjoyed,  but  at 
any  rate  he  certainly  made  an  extensive  acquaintance  with 
Italian  literature,  bringing  back  with  him,  no  doubt,  plenty  of 
manuscripts  of  which  he  later  made  good  use.  His  traveling 
reveals  a  practical  ability;  for  in  1372  he  was  commissioned 
with  one  James  Provan  and  John  de  Mari  to  treat  with  the 
duke,  citizens,  and  merchants  of  Genoa  for  the  purpose  of 
choosing  an  English  port  which  the  Genoese  might  use  as  a 
commercial  base.  In  1377  he  went  to  Flanders  on  secret 
negotiations;  and  in  1378,  with  various  other  men,  he  went 
abroad  to  arrange  a  marriage  between  Richard  II  and  a 
daughter  of  the  king  of  France.  In  1378,  also,  business  took 
him  again  to  Italy,  where  he  visited  Barnabo  Visconti,  Lord 
of  Milan,  and  became  sufficiently  interested  in  that  vivid 
gentleman  to  give  his  story  later  in  the  Monk's  Tale. 

Because  of  this  practical  ability  he  had  the  chance  to  asso- 
ciate with  other  classes  of  his  time.  In  1374,  when  he  was 
living  in  a  house  over  Aldgate  (one  of  the  city  gates),  he  was 
appointed  Comptroller  of  the  Customs  and  Subsidy  of  wools, 
'skins,  and  tanned  hides  in  the  Port  of  London.  In  1376  he 
received  from  the  king  a  grant  of  over  £71,  which  was  the 
fine  imposed  on  a  certain  man  who  shipped  wool  without 
paying  the  duty  for  it.  In  1382  he  was  also  made  Comp- 
troller of  the  Petty  Customs  in  the  Port  of  London,  and  was 
allowed  to  turn  over  the  duties  of  that  office  to  a  deputy.  In 
1385,  when  apparently  he  was  living  in  Greenwich,  he  was 
made  Justice  of  the  Peace  for  Kent,  and  in  the  next  year  he 
sat  in  Parliament  as  a  Knight  of  the  Shire  for  the  county. 
Although  through  a  change  in  the  political  situation  Chaucer 
lost  his  Comptrollership  of  the  Customs  in  1386,  he  was 
again  favored  in  1389  when  he  was  made  Clerk  of  the  King's 
Works  to  supervise  the  royal  properties  at  Westminster,  the 
Tower  of  London,  and  various  manors,  with  a  salary  of  two 
shillings  a  day  or  about  thirty-six  pounds  a  year.  For  these 
tasks  he  was  again  allowed  a  deputy.  In  1390  he  was  se- 
lected to  be  on  a  commission  to  repair  the  banks  of  the 
Thames  between  Woolwich  and  Greenwich;  he  managed  the 


xx  INTRODUCTION 

erection  of  the  scaffolding  for  the  jousts  in  Smithfield;  he 
was  appointed  a  forester  of  North  Petherton  Park,  Somer- 
setshire; and  he  was  ordered  to  get  workmen  and  materials 
for  the  repair  of  St.  George's  Chapel,  Windsor.  Altogether 
his  income  from  these  duties  must  have  been  very  substantial, 
and  the  variety  of  his  work  testifies  to  his  efficiency  in  public 
employment. 

The  opportunity  of  meeting  and  dealing  with  all  sorts  and 
conditions  of  men  would  be  appreciated  to  the  full  by  a  man 
of  Chaucer's  temperament.  Fortunately  the  names  of  a  few 
of  those  who  were  his  friends  have  come  down  to  us.  One 
with  whom  in  particular  he  seems  to  have  had  a  considerable 
intimacy  is  Sir  Lewis  Clifford,  a  distinguished  soldier  and  a 
really  eminent  man  of  that  time.  Sir  Lewis's  daughter  Eliza- 
beth was  married  to  Sir  Philip  la  Vache,  to  whom  is  dedicated 
Trouthe.  And  when  the  French  poet  Eustache  Deschamps 
sent  his  verses  asking  Chaucer  to  cull  some  of  the  flowers  of 
French  rhetoric,  Clifford  himself  brought  the  poem  to  Eng- 
land. To  this  poem,  beginning  "O  Socrates  plains  de  philos- 
ophic "  and  terming  Chaucer  a  "  grant  translateur,"  Chaucer 
perhaps  responded  by  borrowing  heavily  from  Deschamps  for 
the  Legende  of  Good  Women.  There  are  other  names  linked 
with  the  English  poet's  in  various  ways  for  which  we  cannot 
pause:  Sir  John  Clanvowe  and  Richard  Morel.  To  Ralph 
Strode,  Fellow  of  Merton  College,  Oxford,  and  to  John  Gower 
the  poet,  Chaucer  dedicated  his  Troilus  in  a  manner  half 
flippant,  half  serious.  In  1378,  when  Chaucer  was  in  Italy, 
Gower  acted  for  him  in  the  capacity  of  attorney;  and  perhaps, 
when  he  came  back,  Chaucer  brought  a  fresh  manuscript  of 
the  Filostrato,  wrhich  aroused  many  a  discussion  between  the 
poets  as  to  literary  technique,  and  as  to  what  Criseyde  was 
in  Benoit  and  Boccaccio  and  what  she  ought  to  be.  A  quarrel 
between  Chaucer  and  Gower  has  been  read  into  the  supposed 
disparaging  allusion  to  the  Confessio  Amantis  in  the  introduc- 
tion to  the  Man  of  Lawe's  prologue  and  into  the  fact  that  in 
later  versions  of  the  Confessio  a  passage  praising  Chaucer 
does  not  appear.  But,  at  most,  this  exchange  of  courtesies 
reveals  in  the  two  poets  a  difference  in  sense  of  humor. 


CHAUCER'S  LIFE  AND  TIMES  xxi 

Other  items  concerning  Chaucer's  circle  of  acquaintances  we 
must  infer  from  his  activities:  In  1375  he  received  the  respon- 
sibility of  being  ward  to  Edmond  Staplegate  of  Kent  (and  for 
his  trouble  received  £104);  in  1380  he  was  somehow  con- 
cerned with  what  appears  to  have  been  a  case  of  abduction, 
in  which  one  Cecilia  Chaumpaigne  released  to  him  all  rights 
of  action  against  him;  in  1386  he  testified  in  the  Scrope- 
Grosvenor  suit  as  to  the  right  of  Sir  Richard  Scrope  to  bear 
a  certain  coat  of  arms. 

In  the  miscellaneous  information  of  this  kind  that  presents 
itself  in  relation  to  Chaucer,  one  fact  is  especially  clear.  The 
events  of  his  life  are  hardly  more  than  those  of  the  average 
man, — to-day  we  should  say,  the  average  business  man. 
Although  he  had  fair  financial  success,  he  went  through 
difficulties  that  forced  him  to  make  appeals  for  money,  as  in 
the  hint  at  the  end  of  the  Parlement,  and,  again,  in  the  Envoy 
to  Scogan  and  the  Compleinte  to  his  Purs.  He  was  thrice 
robbed,  in  Kent,  at  Westminster,  and  at  Hatcham,  in  1390. 
How  far  the  shifting  favor  of  the  men  in  power  in  the  nineties 
could  affect  his  fortunes  is  not  entirely  clear.  Before  that  time 
in  choosing  his  guildsmen  for  the  Prologe  of  the  Caunterbury 
Tales  he  was  careful  not  to  offend  Mayor  Brembre  by  taking 
any  who  were  out  of  political  favor.  The  protection  of  John 
of  Gaunt  does  not  stay  by  him  apparently.  In  1393  he  was 
without  public  employment;  in  1394  the  king  bestowed  on 
him  a  grant  of  twenty  pounds  a  year  for  life;  in  1395  he  was 
for  some  reason  forced  to  make  various  loans;  in  1398  he  was 
sued.  The  Compleinte  to  Ms  Purs  of  1399  seems  to  have  been 
responsible  for  the  gift  of  a  yearly  sum  of  forty  marks,  and 
he  was  thus  enabled  to  leave  Greenwich  and  its  "shrewes"  to 
take  a  house  in  the  garden  of  the  Chapel  of  St.  Mary,  West- 
minster, near  the  Abbey.  Here  on  the  twenty-fifth  of  October, 
1400,  the  poet  died,  and  he  was  buried  in  the  Abbey,  where  in 
1556  a  tomb  of  gray  marble  was  erected  in  his  memory. 

All  the  details  of  his  life  show  that  Chaucer  was  in  many 
respects  a  typical  figure,  occupied  with  the  normal  cares  and 
duties  of  his  time.  Perhaps  many  of  the  official  posts  came 
his  way  as  a  kind  of  royal  patronage,  from  the  burdens  of 


xxii  INTRODUCTION 

which  he  might  occasionally  be  relieved  by  a  deputy.  But 
that  he  was  versatile  is  evident  from  the  manifold  tasks  that 
were  imposed  on  him  from  which  he  was  not  relieved.  Doubt- 
less many  people  knew  him  simply  as  an  unusually  able  man 
of  affairs  who  happened  to  have  a  delightful  and  endearing 
nature.  And  all  the  while,  as  a  spectator,  Chaucer  had  a 
remarkable  opportunity  to  observe  the  whole  of  what  con- 
stituted the  world  of  his  time,  giving  the  subjects  of  his 
attention  no  impression  that  they  were  specimens  under  the 
glass  of  an  analyst,  but  nevertheless  going  about  with  an 
active  step  and  an  inquiring  eye,  whether  on  diplomatic  mis- 
sions or  in  the  bustle  of  London.  The  pageant  of  life  that 
moved  about  him  was  necessarily  as  inclusive  as  his  own 
pilgrimage:  knights  and  squires,  monks  and  nuns,  pardoners 
and  clerks,  franklins  and  merchants,  craftsmen  and  ec- 
clesiasts,  men  and  women  of  all  types,  he  could  know  them 
all,  and  he  wyas  undoubtedly  a  good  " mixer."  His  "com- 
panye"  was  the  company  of  all  mankind. 

A  word  may  be  added  as  to  his  later  reputation.  Full 
appreciation  of  his  powers  from  the  general  public  naturally 
did  not  come  in  his  own  day,  but  it  followed  soon  after  with 
the  testimonials  of  Lydgate,  Hoccleve,  the  "Scottish  Chau- 
cerians,"  and  others.  To  these  writers  Chaucer  was  a  "mais- 
ter."  The  early  printers  brought  out  editions  of  his  works 
together  with  certain  spurious  productions  which  were  for  a 
long  time  attributed  to  him.  With  the  changes  in  the  de- 
velopment of  the  English  language  the  proper  method  of 
pronouncing  Middle  English  was  forgotten;  small  wonder, 
then,  that  Dryden  found  in  Chaucer's  verse  merely  the 
rude  sweetness  of  a  Scotch  tune!  Urry,  in  his  edition  (1721), 
suggested  that  many  of  the  printed  final  e's  should  be  pro- 
nounced; and  this  idea  was  carried  further  by  the  scholar 
Tyrwhitt,  whose  edition  appeared  in  1775  with  a  mass  of 
useful  information  together  with  remarkably  careful  editing. 
Anything  like  complete  understanding  of  Chaucer's  language, 
however,  did  not  come  until  the  study  of  Professor  Francis  J. 
Child  in  1862,  "  Observations  upon  the  Language  of  Chaucer," 
extended  and  amplified  by  many  other  scholars  of  to-day. 


CHAUCER'S  LIFE  AND  TIMES  xxiii 

4.  THE  CHRONOLOGY  OF  CHAUCER'S  WORKS 

The  dates  assigned  to  Chaucer's  works  are  only  approxi- 
mate. In  most  cases  the  evidence  for  the  date  is  based  on 
style,  source,  or  assumed  allusions  to  historical  events.  The 
following  list  includes  only  the  more  important  works: 

1369-70.  Book  of  the  Duchesse. 

Many  of  the  shorter  minor  poems,  such  as  the  A.  B.  C.,  the 
Compleynte  unto  Pite,  part  of  the  Romaunt  of  the  Rose,  and 
the  Compleynte  of  Mars,  belong  to  the  early  period. 
1377-83.  The  translation  of  Boethius. 

Fortune,  Former  Age,  etc. 
1378.  Or  possibly  1383-84.    Hous  of  Fame. 
1381.  Parlement  of  Foules. 
Anellda  and  Arcite. 
Palamon  and  Arcite. 
1381-84.  Troilus  and  Criseyde. 

Wordes  unto  Adam. 

1386.  Beginning  of  the  Legcnde  of  Good  Women. 
1386-90.  Trouthe. 

.1387-1400.  The  Caunterbury  Tales.     Several  of  the  tales  were  earlier 
pieces  of  work:  e.  g.  the  Knight's  Tale  (as  Palamon  and 
Arcite),  parts  of  the  Monk's  Tale,  possibly  the  Clerk's  Tale, 
and  the  Second  Nun's  Tale. 
1391-92.  Treatise  on  the  Astrolabe. 
1394.  Reworking  of  the  Legende  of  Good  Women. 

Lenvoy  a  Scogan. 
1396.  Lenvoy  a  Bukton. 
1399.  Compleinte  to  his  Purs. 

Other  works  of  Chaucer  now  lost  are  the  Book  of  the  Leoun, 
the  Wrecked  Engendering  of  Mankinde,  and  Qrigines  upon  the 
Maudeleyne,  of  which  we  know,  in  part,  from  the  prologue  of 
the  Legende  of  Good  Women  and,  in  part,  from  the  "retrac- 


5.  CHAUCER'S  LEARNING 

From  Chaucer's  poetry  and  prose  it  is  clear  that  he  was  not 
only  a  close  observer  of  life  but  an  omnivorous  reader.  The 
choice  of  his  reading  was  exceedingly  catholic,  ranging  from 


xxiv  INTRODUCTION 

the  lighter  poetry  (virelays,  roundels,  complaints,  and  bal- 
lades) and  romance  and  fabliau  to  long  allegories  and  philo- 
sophical and  moral  treatises.  He  himself  tells  how  he  con- 
tinually pored  over  a  book;  and  his  time  was  not  idly  spent. 
That  his  interest  was  sincere  can  be  discovered  in  the  pains- 
taking translations  like  the  Tale  of  Melibeus,  a  disquisition 
as  ponderous  as  it  is  long,  and  the  De  Consolaiione  Philos- 
ophiae  of  Boethius,  and  in  his  ready  use  of  what  he  read,  as  in 
the  mosaic  of  borrowed  lines  in  the  portrait  of  the  Duchess 
(The  Book  of  the  Duchesse)  and  again  in  the  prologue  of  the 
Second  Nun's  Tale.  It  is  because  he  laid  up  such  a  store  of 
wisdom,  from  which  he  was  always  able  to  draw,  and  which 
shows  how  deep  an  impression  the  books  made  on  his  mind, 
that  he  may  be  fairly  called  learned. 

The  work  which  had  the  most  profound  influence  upon  him 
was  undoubtedly  the  Consolation  of  Philosophy  written  by 
Anicius  Manlius  Severinus  Boethius  (c.  480-524  A.  D.),  who 
was  a  Christian  consul  under  Theodoric  the  Ostrogoth,  and 
who  under  the  accusation  of  treason  was  put  to  death.  De- 
scribing a  dialogue  between  Dame  Philosophy  and  the  con- 
demned author  waiting  in  prison  for  his  death,  the  book 
presents  Aristotelian  and  Platonic  philosophy  in  order  to 
justify  the  ways  of  God  to  man.  It  achieved  an  almost  con- 
tinuous popularity  down  to  the  Renaissance;  allusions  to  it 
and  adaptations  of  it  appear  everywhere.  The  problems  in- 
volved in  the  discussion  aroused  Chaucer's  keenest  interest, 
and  to  them  he  recurs  again  and  again.  Verbal  echoes  appear 
with  remarkable  frequency  in  his  wrorks,  and  sometimes  he 
lifts  entire  sections  of  the  argument  for  his  purposes.  A  sim- 
ilarly deep,  if  not  at  all  so  pervasive,  influence  was  that  of  the 
Divine  Comedy  of  Dante,  to  which  Chaucer  was  indebted  in 
many  superficial  ways,  but  which  reached  furthest  for  him 
in  his  solution  of  the  problem  of  fate.  The  Hous  of  Fame  and 
the  Parlement  show  that  Chaucer  enjoyed  reading  Dante; 
lines  in  the  Troilus,  in  the  prologue  of  the  Prioress's  Tale,  and 
elsewhere,  show  that  the  appeal  was  something  more  than 
simply  to  the  imagination. 

Of  a  more  secular  type  was  the  influence  of  the  Roman  de  la 


CHAUCER'S  LIFE  AND  TIMES  xxv 

Rose,  which  he  translated,  at  least  in  part,  and  which  fur- 
nished him  with  a  great  deal  of  material  that  he  put  to 
practical  use.  This  thirteenth  century  work,  originally  an 
allegory  of  the  Court  of  Love  by  Guillaume  de  Lorris,  and 
developed  by  Jean  de  Meun  as  a  small  compendium  of  knowl- 
edge, served,  perhaps,  to  lead  Chaucer's  attention  to  some  of 
the  authors  whose  writings  later  engrossed  him.  Here  he 
found  story,  allegory,  and  philosophy,  and  borrowings  from 
Alanus  de  Insulis,  Ovid,  and  others.  Stories  of  love  were 
especially  accessible  to  him  in  his  "owne  book,"  Ovid's 
Metamorphoses;  and  he  also  knew  and  made  use  of  Ovid's 
Heroides. 

These  works  gave  Chaucer  most  of  his  material,  but  there 
are  others  to  which  he  owes  much.  In  his  early  work  he  re- 
veals that  he  has  gained  a  thorough  knowledge  of  French 
writers.  Guillaume  de  Machaut,  of  the  generation  before 
Chaucer's,  and  Froissart  and  Eustache  Deschamps  of  his 
own  time,  wrote  poetry  of  the  Court  of  Love  vision,  which 
served  as  the  model  of  several  of  his  poems.  So  immersed  was 
he  in  the  literature  of  this  type  thcit  this  time  of  his  appren- 
ticeship is  often  called  his  "French  period."  With  the 
Hous  of  Fame  and  the  Parlement  of  Foules,  however,  the 
results  of  his  Italian  journeys  begin  to  appear.  The  senti- 
mentalism  of  Boccaccio  in  the  Teseide  and  the  Filostrato  was 
transmuted  into  the  fine  quality  of  the  much  reduced  romance 
of  the  Knight's  Tale  and  the  greatly  extended  psychological 
"tragedie"  of  the  Troilus.  The  Latin  De  Casibus  Virorum 
Illustrium  of  Boccaccio  inspired  the  Monk's  Tale;  De  Claris 
Mulieribus  of  the  same  author  contributed  probably  to  the 
Legende  of  Good  Women.  From  Petrarch  came  the  Latin 
rendering  of  Boccaccio's  story  of  Griselda  which  was  the 
basis  of  the  Clerk's  Tale;  and  a  sonnet  of  Petrarch's  appears 
translated  in  the  Troilus. 

It  is  difficult  to  estimate  with  any  accuracy  Chaucer's 
knowledge  of  Latin.  Presumably  a  man  of  his  time  might 
have  had  much.  But  he  often  employs  a  French  translation 
of  Latin  works,  as,  in  the  case  of  Boethius,  he  leaned  on  the 
version  attributed  to  Jean  de  Meun.  He  appears  to  have 


xxvi  INTRODUCTION 

had  an  extensive  acquaintance  with  Virgil's  dLneid,  as  well  as 
with  Ovid,  and  with  the  twelfth  century  allegorist,  Alanus  de 
Insulis,  of  whose  Anticlaudianus  and  De  Planctu  Natures  he 
makes  considerable  use,  and  with  the  Somnium  Scipionis 
of  Cicero  in  the  edition  of  Macrobius  (fl.  400  A.  D.)  The 
story  of  Troy  Chaucer  knew  chiefly  from  the  ALneid  and  the 
accounts  in  the  twelfth  century  French  of  Benoit  de  Sainte- 
More  and  in  the  thirteenth  century  Latinization  of  this  by 
Guido  delle  Colonne.  Apparently  he  did  not  know  Greek. 

In  a  writer  like  Chaucer,  who  has  so  many  undeniable 
sources  for  his  material,  a  modern  reader  will  wonder  whether 
any  originality  is  left.  It  is  true  that  the  range  of  the  books 
with  wrhich  he  had  some  familiarity  was  astonishingly  wide, 
and  that  he  not  only  read  but  borrowed  freely.  But  plagiar- 
ism, in  a  sense,  was  the  literary  fashion  of  his  time;  Des- 
champs  sincerely  hoped  that  Chaucer  would  dignify  him  by  a 
few  borrowings  from  his  verse.  The  ancients  in  general  were 
not  passionate  for  novelty;  they  had  some  good  stories,  and 
loved  to  have  them  retold,  with  perhaps  new  color,  new  char- 
acterization, or  new  subtlety.  And  do  we  need  to  be  re- 
minded that  originality  does  not  consist  simply  in  the  matter 
of  plot?  If  that  were  the  case  Shakspere  would  suffer 
much  at  the  hands  of  criticism.  The  Knight's  Tale  in  plot 
and  in  many  of  the  verses  is  Boccaccio's;  but  in  its  form  as 
we  have  it  in  the  Caunterbury  Tales,  in  its  changes  in  char- 
acterization, notably  in  the  case  of  Arcite,  and  in  its  new 
language,  it  is  Chaucer's  alone. 

Many  writers  in  French  and  Latin,  whom  we  have  not 
listed,  contributed  to  Chaucer's  knowledge.  The  culture  of 
his  time,  from  the  wealth  of  the  patristic  writings  to  the 
lyrics  and  folk-tales,  was  well  digested  in  his  reading.  Cur- 
rent romances  and  lays  from  the  popular  as  well  as  from 
literary  sources  appear  in  his  stories;  and  information  of  a 
scientific  or  pseudo-scientific  character  came  not  only  from 
books,  but  probably  from  the  common  stock  of  lore  of  his 
day.  Perhaps  the  most  striking  fact  in  regard  to  Chaucer's 
material  is  that  it  represents  so  many  of  the  different  literary 
types  of  the  Middle  Ages.  In  his  works  the  varying  forms  all 


CHAUCER'S  LIFE  AND  TIMES  xxvii 

appear,  such  as  the  Court  of  Love  vision,  the  shorter  lyric 
forms,  the  moral  exemplum,  the  lay,  the  romance  (parodied 
and  also  several  times  honestly  attempted),  the  fabliau,  the 
mock-heroic  animal  epic,  the  allegory,  the  sermon,  the 
treatise  (moral  as  well  as  philosophical),  and  the  tales  within 
a  framework.  The  result  shows  not  only  the  scope  of  his 
reading,  but  also  how  thoroughly  he  was  a  man  of  his  time. 
Like  Dante  he  presents  a  synthesis  of  Medieval  expression. 
Like  Dante,  again,  he  does  not  reject  the  conventions  of  his 
period,  but  utilizes  them,  in  word,  phrase,  and  form,  for  the 
expression  of  his  unique  genius.  The  Clerk's  Tale  remains 
the  story  of  Griselda;  but  in  its  setting  in  relation  to  the 
Wife  of  Bathe's  prologue  it  becomes  a  delicate  and  sharp 
satire.  The  Book  of  the  Duchesse  is  a  love  vision;  but 
as  an  elegy  that  very  fact  conveys  a  fine  and  caressing 
sympathy.  In  the  Troilus  the  young  hero  still  suffers  the 
infidelity  of  Criseyde;  but  he  and  Criseyde  and  Pandams  are 
not  Troilo,  Griseida,  and  Pandaro,  and  at  the  end  of  the  poem 
Troilus  suffers  a  change  of  view  as  to  his  "fate"  that  is  not 
found  in  the  Italian  source.  If  ever  a  convention  threatened 
to'  control  Chaucer,  as  in  the  Legende  of  Good  Women,  he 
dropped  the  work  entirely.  What  he  alters,  he  does  not  alter 
by  pressing  it  into  a  new  mould,  but  by  filling  it  with  a  new 
spirit.  By  watching  Chaucer's  intricate  and  composite  bor- 
rowings from  various  sources  we  learn  a  great  deal  about 
literary  art;  by  observing  what  he  does  with  his  reading 
we  learn  still  more  about  genius. 


II.  CHAUCER'S  LITERARY  ART 

Many  of  the  values  of  Chaucer's  literary  work  have  always 
been  too  obvious  for  discursive  criticism.  The  rich  detail 
drawn  from  human  life,  the  range  of  characterization,  the 
clear  glimpses  of  natural  scenery,  the  kindling  mellow  humor, 
qualities  in  Chaucer  like  these  were  appreciated  long  before 
the  American  critic,  Lowell,  wrote  his  famous  essay  on  the 
poet  and  apologized  for  venturing  to  add  a  word  to  the  sub- 
ject. The  pilgrimage  to  Canterbury  has  long  stirred  the 
imagination  of  readers.  Centuries  before  the  well-known 
Stothard  painting  of  the  group,  and  before  William  Blake 
gave  his  independent  interpretation,  a  Medieval  artist  was 
inspired  to  try  his  hand  at  depicting  the  pilgrims  in  the 
Ellesmere  Manuscript.  "Modernizations"  or  translations  of 
some  of  the  tales  have  appeared  from  Dryden's  day  to  ours. 
Indeed  it  seems  likely  that,  but  for  the  hindrance  in  the 
change  of  language,  Chaucer  would  have  remained  the  poet 
of  the  people  at  large  as  he  has  always  been  a  favorite  of  the 
few.  But  much  as  he  has  been  enjoyed  in  all  periods,  the  full 
understanding  of  his  genius  has  been  growing  lately  with  the 
increased  knowledge  of  his  methods.  The  study  of  literary 
sources  is  sufficiently  well  justified  by  the  discoveries  con- 
cerning the  fund  of  material  of  which  he  made  use.  It  has 
become  apparent  that  Chaucer  is  not  merely  the  student  of 
human-nature  or  the  satirical  commentator,  but  also  a 
narrative  and  imaginative  poet  of  great  skill  and  a  thinker. 
The  growth  in  the  development  of  his  art,  and  the  ripening 
of  his  faculties  and  judgment,  have  become  more  and  more 
perceptible. 

The  problem  of  chronology  is  still  somewhat  a  matter  of 
doubt;  but  certainly  one  of  the  earliest  works  is  the  Book  of 
the  Duchesse,  which  was  written  in  1369  or  shortly  thereafter 
as  an  elegy  for  the  death  of  Blanche,  the  first  wife  of  John  of 
Gaunt.  It  is  probably  to  this  poem  that  Chaucer  refers  in 
the  prologue  of  the  Man  of  Lawe's  Tale,  where  he  says,  "  In 


CHAUCER'S  LITERARY  ART  xxix 

youthe  he  made  of  Ceys  and  Alcione."  The  lack  of  metrical 
fluency  (if  our  manuscripts  give  us  anything  like  a  true  ac- 
count), the  rather  tedious  mass  of  details  which  fail  to  con- 
tribute a  full  quota  to  the  total  effect,  a  structural  tendency 
to  ramble,  show  the  amateurishness  of  the  work.  Yet  there 
are  also  elements  of  great  talent.  In  theme  the  poem  follows 
a  strongly  conventionalized  type,  and  yet  it  remains  fresh 
and  to  the  point.  Based  on  the  Court  of  Love  vision,  espe- 
cially on  the  form  developed  in  Machaut's  Jugement  dou  Roy 
de  Behaingne,  the  Book  of  the  Duchesse  is  in  some  ways  like 
hundreds  of  poems  in  Old  French  literature;  but  in  one  point, 
in  particular,  it  is  different, — namely,  in  the  fact  that 
it  is  an  elegy.  As  in  the  case  of  the  Middle  English  Pearl, 
the  very  conventionality  of  the  form,  the  associations  called 
up  by  the  machinery  so  familiar  in  love  poetry,  indicate  the 
poet's  devotion  to  the  lady  who  is  gone.  The  poet  recounts 
how  he  fell  into  a  sleep  one  day  after  reading  the  story  of 
Alcyone  and  her  lament  for  her  husband,  and  how  he  dreamed 
of  the  knight  in  black  who  was  mourning  the  loss  of  his 
lady.  A  slumberous  incoherence  surrounds  the  episodes  as 
they  are  told,  which  begin  with  the  vision  of  a  hunt,  proceed 
with  the  aimless  wandering  led  by  the  little  dog,  and,  for  no 
apparent  reason  except  that  which  unites  the  elements  of  a 
dream,  come  to  the  meeting  with  the  knight  in  black  and  the 
long  dialogue  in  which  the  dreamer  seems  not  to  understand 
the  drift  of  the  knight's  discourse  so  that  he  may  draw  him 
out  and  ease  him  of  his  pain.  When  the  knight  at  last 
definitely  repeats  the  fact  that  his  lady  is  dead,  the  dream- 
er's sympathy,  emphasized  by  the  suspense,  gains  in  climax: 
"Is  that  your  los?  By  God,  hit  is  routhe!"  A  notable 
feature  in  the  poem  is  the  description  of  the  Duchess,  which 
is  a  composition  of  lines  taken  from  various  foreign  sources, 
with  few  original  touches,  and  yet  resulting  in  a  picture  in 
which  the  lady  was  presumably  recognizable  to  a  contem- 
porary. 

The  technical  advance  over  this  poem  in  the  Hous  of  Fame 
is,  however,  striking.  The  main  structure  of  the  latter  is 
based,  to  be  sure,  on  that  of  the  P  anther  e  &  Amours  of  Nicole 


xxx  INTRODUCTION 

de  Margival  (of  the  thirteenth  century),  and  from  this 
source  come  the  mountain  home  which  Fame  adopts,  and 
many  other  suggestions.  But  the  plot  is  much  more  com- 
pletely Chaucer's  own,  and  certainly  the  old  idea  that  the 
poem  reflected  the  plan  of  the  Divine  Comedy  is  completely 
unfounded.  Hints  from  the  Italian  begin  to  appear  never- 
theless; the  account  of  Dido,  the  eagle,  and  other  features, 
owe  much  to  Virgil  and  Dante  and  Boccaccio.  Other  in- 
debtednesses are  here:  the  turning  house  of  Rumor,  a  magical 
transformation  of  the  whirling  castles  of  Medieval  romance, 
and  reminiscent,  perhaps,  of  certain  houses  of  twigs  which 
Chaucer  may  have  seen  in  Wales,  is  in  substance  a  borrowing. 
And  yet  the  idea  of  such  a  factory  of  rumors  is  Chaucer's 
own;  the  humor  of  the  educative  discourse  of  the  eagle,  who 
holds  his  audience  spellbound  in  his  very  clutches,  the  satire 
of  the  types  that  present  themselves  to  Fame  for  her  re- 
wards, the  imagination  displayed  in  the  conception  of  such 
a  realm  (although  here  again  the  suggestion  comes  from 
Ovid)  whither  the  speech  of  earth  makes  its  way  like  any 
element  seeking  its  sphere,  these  qualities  show  Chaucer 
himself,  a  genius  at  play  with  material  over  which  he  has  a 
perfect  mastery.  What  the  chief  point  of  the  whole  story  is 
we  do  not  know.  The  man  of  great  authority  appears,  and 
we  are  doubtless  just  about  to  learn  certain  important  tid- 
ings of  love.  Perhaps,  in  fact,  in  a  manuscript  which  formed 
the  presentation  copy,  the  tidings  were  told.  But  for  us  the 
poem  remains  incomplete. 

And  perhaps,  after  all,  the  purpose  intended  in  this  poem 
was  better  served  by  what  seems  to  have  been  the  next  work, 
the  Parlement  of  Foules.  For  this  the  De  Planctu  Natura  of 
Alanus  de  Insulis,  lines  from  Dante  describing  the  gate  of  the 
Inferno,  possibly  a  tale  concerning  a  lovers'  debate,  furnished 
the  chief  outlines.  The  satire  on  the  English  parliament  of 
Chaucer's  day,  the  characterization  of  the  birds  in  a  way 
that  recalls  certain  human  traits,  and  the  portraits  of  the 
lovers,  are  original  with  Chaucer.  Here  we  find  a  transition 
from  the  octosyllabics  of  the  previous  poems  to  the  seven-line 
stanza,  an  imitation  of  the  Italian  ottava  rima,  and  later 


CHAUCER'S  LITERARY  ART  xxxi 

called  "rime  royal"  (because  of  its  use  by  James  I  of  Scot- 
land in  the  Kingis  Quair),  a  verse  which  is  more  fluent  than 
the  rollicking  measure  of  the  Hous  of  Fame,  and  which,  as 
Chaucer  uses  it,  is  richer  in  substance  and  more  quotable. 
Although  this  poem  may  be  less  of  an  imaginative  achieve- 
ment than  the  Hous  of  Fame,  it  has  been  universally  admired, 
and  is  the  first  which  was  afterward  largely  imitated.  Many 
contemporary  allusions  have  been  read  into  its  allegory: 
it  has  been  proposed  that  the  poem  was  intended  to  celebrate 
the  match  of  Richard  II  and  Anne  of  Bohemia,  or  again  that 
it  dealt  with  the  attempted  betrothal  of  Richard  with  Philippa 
Lancaster,  John  of  Gaunt's  daughter.  But  all  the  suggestions 
so  far  are  open  to  serious  question. 

With  the  French  influence  strong  hitherto,  and  with  the 
Italian  contributions  affecting  the  Hous  of  Fame  and  the 
Parlement  more  and  more  directly,  Chaucer's  full  maturity 
arrives  with  the  complete  treatment  of  an  Italian  theme  in 
the  Troilus.  This  poem,  consisting  of  more  than  eight 
thousand  lines,  is  a  modified  translation  of  Boccaccio's 
77  Filostrato,  itself  an  adaptation  of  a  story  familiar  in  the 
Roman  de  Troye  of  Benoit  de  Sainte-More  and  in  the  Latin 
rendering  of  Guido  delle  Colonne.  Chaucer's  additions, 
amounting  to  almost  a  third  of  the  poem,  include  philosophy 
from  Boethius  and  a  supply  of  motivation  for  the  characters. 
Pandarus  is  older  than  his  prototype  in  the  original,  and 
Criseyde  more  complex  than  hers.  In  both  versions  Troilus 
proceeds  as  a  typical  hero  of  the  Court  of  Love;  but  the 
interpretation  of  his  tragedy  is  different.  In  Chaucer  he 
blames  Fate  or  Fortune  for  what  occurs,  he  takes  great  pains 
to  expound  his  self-pitying  philosophy,  but  at  the  end  a 
passage  is  borrowed  from  Boccaccio's  La  Teseide  to  describe 
his  flight  through  the  spheres  to  a  pitch  of  enlightenment 
where  he  sees  that  his  own  folly  was  the  cause  of  his  disaster, 
and  that  his  troubles  are  not  so  grave  as  he  had  supposed. 
The  story  is  told  in  the  manner  of  a  drama  with  climax  and 
catastrophe,  and  in  the  end,  as  a  relief  and  solution,  a  re- 
markably detached  mood  is  introduced,  original  with  Chau- 
cer, to  give  the  setting  of  the  story  its  proper  irony,  by  which 


xxxii  INTRODUCTION 

it  attains  a  far  wider  significance.  The  Court  of  Love,  all  the 
fuming  and  fussing  of  lovers,  much  of  human  turmoil  in 
general,  is  the  subject  of  laughter  against  the  background  of 
the  universe  and  eternity.  Criseyde,  who  wished  to  stay 
herself  at  least  by  fidelity  to  Diomede,  and  Diomede  himself 
"  making  hay  while  the  sun  shines,"  ladies  and  lovers,  fate 
and  Troy,  all  are  trivial ;  all  shall  pass.  The  eternal  things  are 
those  to  which  we  must  hold  fast.  The  poem  closes  with  a 
moral  warning,  a  dedication  (not  made  too  solemnly),  and  a 
prayer.  It  may  be  maintained  that  in  this  poem  too  little  of 
the  atmosphere  of  Greece  and  Troy  is  introduced,  that 
Troilus  is  a  Medieval  knight,  and  that  the  scenes  are  those  of 
the  fourteenth  century.  While  there  is  truth  in  this,  the 
fault  is  not  primarily  Chaucer's;  for  similar  anachronisms 
were  allowed  in  literature  until  a  much  later  period. 

Pandarus,  Troilus,  and  Criseyde  are  characterizations  not 
of  the  fourteenth  century  alone  but  of  all  time.  In  the  ripe- 
ness of  their  art  they  anticipate  some  of  the  best  figures  of  the 
Caunterbury  Tales.  But  Chaucer  did  not  wholly  sustain  this 
level  in  the  works  that  followed.  Having  experimented  in  a 
new  verse-form,  the  decasyllabic  couplet,  in  the  Palamon  and 
Arcite  (the  Knight's  Tale  before  it  was  put  into  the  group), 
he  returned  after  using  the  seven-line  stanza  of  the  Troilus 
to  another  venture  in  decasyllabics  with  the  Legende  of  Good 
Women.  Here  the  Court  of  Love  vision,  employed  thrice 
before  in  different  ways  in  his  poems,  served  as  the  framework 
for  a  collection  of  stories  about  ladies  who  were  martyrs  in 
love  like  saints  who  were  martyrs  to  the  faith  of  the  Church. 
The  parallelism  between  the  conventions  of  love  and  of  the 
Church  had  been  the  scheme  for  many  secular  poems  in 
European  literature;  the  commandments,  the  ritual,  and  the 
relics  were  familiar  as  literary  formulae.  Now  a  collection  of 
"Saints'  legends  of  Cupid"  was  to  be  made.  Theoretically 
the  idea  was  a  good  one ;  it  offered  pleasant  satirical  possibil- 
ities. Beginning  with  the  light  and  charming  verse  of  the 
Prologue  (which  introduces  the  Balade  of  fair  ladies)  some 
zest  for  the  undertaking  is  apparent  in  the  initial  effort.  But 
either  the  monotony  of  the  task,  which  required  story  after 


CHAUCER'S  LITERARY  ART  xxxiii 

story  of  the  same  general  type,  wearied  Chaucer;  or  else  the 
far  greater  resources  in  the  scheme  of  the  Canterbury  pil- 
grimage lured  his  interest  away.  In  any  case  he  let  the  theme 
drop  (in  the  form  known  as  Prologue  B,  with  the  stories  about 
as  we  know  them) ;  and  later  (after  working  on  the  introduc- 
tion to  the  Man  of  Lawe's  Tale)  he  took  it  up  again  (in  the 
form  of  Prologue  A),  reminded  perhaps  of  its  possibilities, 
but  again  he  lost  interest. 

The  variety  of  literary  opportunity  in  the  Caunterbury 
Tales  is,  of  course,  clear  enough.  According  to  the  difference 
in  the  pilgrims  there  must  be  stories  for  every  taste.  And 
the  appeal  is  similarly  varied.  The  power  of  criticism  of 
life  in  every  rank  of  society,  the  sympathy  with  all  that  is 
called  human,  whether  good  or  bad,  the  relish  for  every 
activity  that  engages  man,  this  universality  is  a  distinguishing 
mark  of  Chaucer's  greatness  at  this  point  in  his  career.  All 
types  fare  equally  well  in  his  estimation.  The  scoundrel  is  not 
exonerated,  but  he  may  be  personally  liked,  even  loved;  the 
virtuous  have  their  faults  that  make  them  more  approachable; 
even  Chaucer  must  come  down  from  his  high  horse  and  tell 
another  story  more  suitable  to  the  company  (they  hope)  than 
his  first.  The  Prioress,  gentle  Madame  Eglantine,  as  dainty 
as  any  heroine  of  romance,  will  count  her  beads,  however 
devotedly,  only  to  reach  the  brooch  inscribed  "Amor  vincit 
omnia.5>  As  in  Medieval  romance,  too,  it  is  always  the  best 
of  every  class,  of  every  kind,  whether  knight,  ecclesiast,  or 
artisan,  that  happens,  by  a  miracle  of  good  luck,  to  be  travel- 
ing on  this  pilgrimage.  The  figures  in  the  Prologe  are  usually 
typical,  except  in  the  case  of  some  of  the  broader  characteri- 
zations where  the  features  are  picked  out  with  Diirer-like 
detail;  but  in  the  drama  of  the  links  between  the  stories  the 
characters  become  individual.  In  the  execution  of  this  plan 
Chaucer  exceeds  all  the  framed  collections  of  stories  of  his 
time:  the  Confessio  Amantis,  the  Seven  Sages,  the  Decameron, 
and  even  the  Novelle  of  Sercambi  (where  there  is  a  similar 
pilgrimage  and  some  characterization).  The  tales  with 
Chaucer  become  a  Human  Comedy,  in  which  the  Pardoner 
confesses  to  the  tricks  of  his  trade  and,  for  a  change,  exalts 


xxxiv  INTRODUCTION 

true  piety,  and  in  which  the  Wife  of  Bathe  takes  her  fling  at 
the  demure  Clerk,  who,  in  turn,  shows  that  his  philosophy  is 
not  without  the  salt  of  humor.  The  gusto  with  which  the 
tales  proceed  (we  are  in  them  before  we  know  it),  the  splendor, 
the  riotous  joy  of  living  with  that  company,  embody  the 
vitality  of  " merry  England."  But  much  as  the  poet  enters 
into  the  delight  of  the  journey,  Chaucer  the  ironist  is  never 
absent.  We  cannot  miss  the  dramatic  irony  of  the  long 
debate  between  Palamon  and  Arcite  as  to  their  rights  in  the 
love  affair  which  is  opposed  to  their  swrorn  friendship,  or 
that  of  the  knight  who  mourns  his  freedom  while  his  brother 
laments  that  he  is  in  prison,  or  that  of  the  solemn  and  lonely 
fight  in  the  forest  for  a  lady  who  is  totally  unaware  of  the 
devotion  of  either  suitor.  Boccaccio's  La  Teseide,  here  greatly 
reduced,  is  no  longer  the  lacrimose  tragedy  of  Arcite.  Or,  to 
take  another  instance,  we  may  remember  the  three  rioters  of 
the  Pardoner's  Tale  who  go  in  search  of  Death  in  order  to  kill 
him,  and  when  they  meet  him  at  last  they  are  only  too 
obsequious  about  obeying  his  directions,  unconscious  who 
he  is. 

The  tone  of  the  stories  varies  from  earnest  to  game,  from 
poetry  to  grim  prose.  Many  themes  of  vice  and  virtue  are 
dwelt  upon,  themes  of  love  and  marriage,  worldliness  and 
piety.  The  Wife  of  Bathe  starts  the  ball  rolling  down  a  long 
course  of  discussion  on  the  subject  of  woman's  position  in  the 
world  and  of  the  estate  of  wedlock.  The  topic  of  woman's 
counsel,  whether  it  is  harmful  or  beneficial,  had  already  been 
in  the  air,  and  it  led  naturally  to  this.  Now  the  Wife  of  Bathe 
takes  her  turn  to  insist  on  mastery  for  woman  and  plenty  of 
wedlock.  In  varying  ways  she  is  answered  by  the  Clerk, 
who  shows  that  patient  Griselda  was  a  somewhat  extreme 
type,  by  the  Squire,  who  treats  of  romantic  love,  by  the  Mer- 
chant, who  reveals  a  bitter  disillusionment  as  to  the  glamor  of 
love,  and  by  the  Franklin,  who  concludes  that  man  and  wife 
must  each  have  mastery  and  that  wedlock  is,  after  all,  a 
blessed  condition. 

But  great  as  is  the  range  of  appeal  in  the  subject  matter  of 
the  tales,  they  also  show  a  variety  in  skill.  Some  of  them  were 


CHAUCER'S  LITERARY  ART  xxxv 

obviously  written  early,  like  the  Man  of  Lawe's  Tale,  the 
Monk's  Tale  (with  later  additions),  and  the  Tale  of  the 
Second  Nun.  From  the  sentimental  pathos  of  the  succession 
of  tragedies  in  the  Monk's  Tale,  appropriate  to  the  luxury- 
loving  Monk  with  his  furred  wrists,  jingling  bells,  and  genuine 
concern  only  for  worldly  matters,  the  pilgrims  ask  to  be  de- 
livered, led  by  the  only  fit  spokesman  for  such  a  protest,  the 
Knight.  These  early  tales  are  rather  slight  in  material, 
compared,  say,  with  the  rich  mock-heroic  of  the  Nun's 
Priest's  Tale  or  with  the  abundant  humanity  of  the  Wife  of 
Bathe's  Prologue.  And  their  thinness  is  not  due  to  the  fact  of 
their  being  religious  in  cast;  for  Chaucer  shows  his  power 
in  eloquent  morality  in  Trouthe  and  in  lyric  piety  in  the 
Prioress's  Tale.  There  is  some  indication  that  the  tales 
were  not  all  originally  assigned  to  the  speakers  who  now 
have  them.  Thus  it  is  possible  that  the  Melibeus  first  be- 
longed to  the  Man  of  Lawre,  who  says  that  he  speaks  "in 
prose"  and  who  might  be  expected  to  be  somewhat  argu- 
mentative; at  present,  however,  it  is  Chaucer's  lengthy  retort 
to  the  pilgrims'  dislike  of  Sir  Thopas.  The  best  of  the  stories 
seem  to  have  been  written  with  their  tellers  in  mind,  like 
those  of  the  Pardoner,  the  Franklin,  and  the  Canon's  Yeo- 
man. The  Pardoner's  Tale,  even  apart  from  its  setting  as  an 
exemplum  in  a  homily,  is  a  masterpiece  of  narrative  skill. 
Its  simplicity  and  directness,  its  swift  conclusion,  are  worthy 
of  admiration.  Some  of  the  tales  Chaucer  never  finished, 
specifically  those  of  the  Cook  and  the  Squire.  For  the  Cook 
he  was  obviously  preparing  a  fabliau;  the  loss  of  the  rest  of 
the  Squire's  Tale  (which  Spenser  supplies  in  the  Faerie 
Queene)  is  regrettable,  but  the  fragment,  like  Kubla  Khan, 
gains  in  romantic  charm  by  leaving  much  to  the  imagination. 
The  grouping  of  the  stories  as  a  whole  shows  a  certain  lack  of 
finish.  But  it  was  evidently  never  intended  to  be  managed 
with  any  view  to  climax  (except,  perhaps,  in  the  Marriage 
Cycle);  climaxes  arrive  according  to  the  subjects  that  ob- 
viously most  engaged  the  enthusiasm  of  the  poet.  The  last 
tale  of  all  is  the  least  impressive,  that  of  the  Parson,  not  in 
any  sense  a  story  but  a  sombre  moral  treatise  without  artistic 


xxxvi  INTRODUCTION 

relief;  it  has  some  interest,  however,  from  the  fact  that  it  is 
concluded  by  a  Retraction  in  which  Chaucer  apologizes  for 
his  worldly  poems.  The  scheme  of  the  Cauntcrbury  Tales 
itself  was  left  unfinished:  the  pilgrims  fail  to  tell  their  full 
number  of  stories;  some  of  them,  in  fact,  do  not  have  any 
turn  at  all.  It  remained  for  other  poets,  like  Lydgate  in  his 
Story  of  Thebes,  to  add  further  contributions.  The  most 
remarkable  work  done  in  Chaucer's  vein,  however,  has  noth- 
ing to  do  with  this  group;  it  is  the  continuation  of  the  Troilus 
by  the  Scottish  poet  Henryson  in  his  Testament  of  Cresseid. 

Like  all  Chaucer's  works,  the  Caunterbury  Tales  derive 
from  literary  sources.  The  legend  which  formed  the  basis  of 
the  Prioress's  Tale  was  well  known  in  various  forms;  the 
story  of  Chaunteclere  goes  back  through  different  versions  to 
the  cycle  of  animal  epics  which  formed  such  a  great  body  of 
literature  in  Europe;  the  Pardoner's  Tale  traces  its  beginnings 
to  the  Orient;  and  the  tale  of  Patient  Griselda,  reworked  in 
Latin  by  Petrarch  from  the  Italian  of  Boccaccio,  was  Euro- 
pean literary  property.  But  the  procession  of  vividly  human 
beings  that  makes  its  way  toward  the  shrine  of  Becket,  the 
variegated  throng  of  fourteenth  century  England  that  forms  a 
part  of  English  literary  tradition,  in  which  Harry  Bailly  still 
does  business  at  the  Tabard,  and  the  Wife  of  Bathe  is  worthy 
to  be  mentioned  along  with  characters  like  Falstaff,  all  this 
Chaucer  created.  It  may  be  that  some  of  the  traits  of  the 
pilgrims  were  drawn  from  living  people  of  Chaucer's  day; 
that  a  contemporary  might  have  laughed  to  recognize  a 
familiar  figure  in  the  Cook  or  the  Summoner.  But  the  spirit 
of  the  English  people  infuses  them  all,  interpreted  with 
warm  humor  by  the  poet.  And  not  only  the  creation  of  this 
friendly  company  is  Chaucer's,  but  also  the  artistic  skill  and 
the  poetry  of  their  stories  (which  is  evident  in  conception  if 
not  in  figurative  ornament  of  speech),  whereby  the  monoto- 
nous and  dreary,  the  pietistic.  the  sentimental,  or  qualities 
even  less  desirable  in  the  sources,  become  transformed  and 
gain  genuine  and  wholesome  significance. 


III.  THE   PRESENT  TEXT 

The  basis  of  the  text  of  the  present  edition  is  that  of  the 
Reverend  W.  W.  Skeat,  published  by  the  Clarendon  Press, 
Oxford,  1894-1900,  modified  by  a  collation  with  manuscript 
readings  which  are  accessible  in  the  Chaucer  Society  prints. 
Since  it  is  impossible  to  discover  the  exact  Chaucerian  forms 
and  wording,  it  has  seemed  justifiable  to  normalize  the  text 
somewhat  with  a  view  to  making  it  easier  for  the  beginner  in 
Middle  English.  For  instance,  the  common  forms  had,  did, 
eek,  and  whan,  are  always  used  except  when  the  final  e 
(hadde,  dide,  eke,  whanne)  is  metrically  desirable;  evere 
and  nevere  are  regularly  so  spelled;  the  present  participle 
and  the  gerund  in  most  cases  take  a  final  e  only  at  the  end  of 
a  line;  some  effort  has  been  made  to  establish  normal  forms  for 
the  imperative  singular  of  the  verb;  words  which  are  nor- 
mally entitled  to  a  final  e  by  the  evidence  of  rime  (unless  this 
is  ambiguous)  are  always  so  spelled.  Of  these  alterations  it 
was  discovered  that  a  large  number  were  supported  by  manu- 
script readings,  and  only  the  exceptional  cases  are  recorded  in 
the  list  of  variants  in  the  back  of  the  book.  Some  features  of 
the  change  may  seem  arbitrary:  as,  for  instance,  the  use  of 
the  form  out  when  it  appears  as  a  preposition,  and  of  the 
form  oute  when  it  functions  as  an  adverb.  But  the  changes 
are  in  general  slight,  and  it  is  hoped  that  the  gain  in  con- 
sistency will  render  the  text  easier  for  the  student  and  average 
reader  to  comprehend.  For  every  modification  the  standard 
has  always  been  the  accepted  Chaucerian  grammar. 

The  choice  of  the  poems  for  the  present  edition,  and  the 
abridgment  of  the  text  have  already  been  discussed  in  the 
Preface.  The  Skeat  numbering  of  the  lines  is  given  at 
the  foot  of  each  page  so  that  students  may  consult  the  notes 
of  the  larger  edition. 


IV.  THE  LANGUAGE 

1.  The  dialect  used  by  Chaucer  is  that  of  the  East  Midland 
district  together  with  some  Kentish  forms.     In  general  the 
inflectional  system  is  like  that  of  modern  English.    But  it  is 
complicated  somewhat  by  the  survival  of  certain  Anglo- 
Saxon  forms,  by  some  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  endings  reduced  to 
final  unaccented  e,  by  forms  taken  over  from  the  Old  French 
with  final  e's,  and  by  a  few  final  e's  which  do  not  seem  to  be 
historically  justifiable.     In  the  preservation  of  such  forms 
Chaucer  keeps  to  a  standard  slightly  conservative  in  com- 
parison with  the  spoken  language  of  his  time,  probably  for 
the  increased  facility  that  it  contributed  to  solving  metrical 
problems  and  for  the  liquid  quality  gained  thereby  in  the 
verse. 

NOUNS 

2.  The  normal  declension  of  the  noun  is  as  follows: 

Sing.  Plu. 

N.  D.  A.         dom          nonne  domes        nonnes 

Gen.  domes       nonnes  domes       nonnes 

3.  The  stem  of  nonne  has  a  final  e,  which  appears  in  the 
nominative  singular.    This  ending  is  found:  in  nouns  where 
the  Anglo-Saxon  nominative  singular  ended  in  a  vowel,  like 
nonne  from  A.  S.  nunne ;  in  nouns  derived  from  A.  S.  feminines 
(of  which  the  oblique  cases  ended  in  e),  like  lore  from  A.  S. 
lar;  and  in  nouns  which  had  a  final  e  in  Old  French,  like 
grace,  loye.    In  a  few  other  cases,  like  hewe  from  A.  S.  heow 
(neuter) , or  like  travaile  from  O.  Fr.  travail,  an " unhistorical" 
or  "inorganic"  final  e  appears  for  which  full  explanation  is 
still  lacking. 

4.  A  few  survivals  from  an  A.  S.  genitive  singular  appear 
which  in  Middle  English  have  no  ending:  fader  soule  (fader 
here  means  "father's,"  coming  from  the  A.  S.  r-declension) ; 


THE  LANGUAGE  xxxix 

lady  grace  ("  lady's,"  coming  from  the  A.  S.  weak  declen- 
sion with  a  genitive  in  -an).  Proper  nouns  ending  in  s 
appear  without  the  genitive  ending:  Epicurus  owne  sone. 
A  few  Old  Fr.  words  also  lack  the  ending:  your  heritage 
right. 

5.  In  certain  stereotyped  phrases  a  final  e  survives  from 
the  A.  S.  dative,  forming  in  Middle  English  what  is  sometimes 
called  the  "  petrified  dative  ":  on  lyve;  in  toune;  in  honde. 
This  dative  e  sometimes  appears  in  other  phrases,  where  it 
was  probably  taken  over  by  analogy:  in  the  fyre  (on  fyre, 
petrified  dative). 

6.  The  plurals  sometimes  end  in  s  instead  of  es :  naciouns, 
daungers.    Nouns  ending  in  s  usually  add  no  plural  ending: 
caas,  paas,  vers.    Some  nouns  take  plurals  in  -en  from  the  A. 
S.  weak  declension,  like  eyen,  asshen,  been;  and  by  analogy 
with  these  are  formed  children,  doughtren,  sustren.    There 
are  some  plurals  without  ending,  like  hors,  yeer,  from  A.  S. 
neuters;  and  some  nouns  form  their  plurals  by  umlaut,  like 
men,  feet,  as  in  A.  S. 

ADJECTIVES 

7.  As  in  modern  German  there  are  two  declensions  for 
adjectives,  the  strong  and  the  weak.    These  are  declined  as 
follows: 

Strong    Sing,    yong          swete 
Plu.     yonge        swete 

Weak     Sing,    yonge        swete 
Plu.     yonge        swete 

8.  Some  adjectives,  like  swete,  have  a  final  e  in  the  singular 
of  the  strong  declension  because  in  A.  S.  they  ended  in  a  vowel 
(A.  S.  swete),  or  because  they  were  derived  from  Old  Fr. 
adjectives  with  final  e  (like  contraire).    A  few  adjectives  take 
an  e  in  Middle  English  which  (like  longe)  in  A.  S.  or  (like 
comune)  in  O.  Fr.  ended  in  a  consonant.    Lyte  and  muche 
retain  the  e  from  A.  S.  lytel  and  mycel. 


xl  INTRODUCTION 

9.  The  weak  declension  of  the  adjective  may  be  used 
under  the  following  circumstances: 

(a)  When  the  adjective  is  used  substantively:  the  beste,  by  weste. 

(b)  When  it  is  preceded  by  the  definite  article  or  a  demonstrative: 

the  yonge  sonne. 

(c)  When  it  is  preceded  by  a  noun  or  pronoun  in  the  genitive  case: 

his  halve  cours. 

(d)  When  it  modifies  a  noun  in  the  vocative:  O  blake  nyght. 

(e)  When  it  modifies  a  proper  name:  faire  Venus. 

10.  Survivals  from  the  A.  S.  are  found  in  the  adjective:  in 
the  dative  e  (A.  S.  -um)  of  the  strong  declension  in  certain 
phrases,  like  of  evene  lengthe,  in  warme  wex;  and  in  the 
strong  genitive  plural  form  aller,  alder,  or  alther  (A.  S. 
ealra).    From  O.  Fr.  conies  a  plural  ending  in  es:  places 
delitables. 

11.  The    comparative   of   the  adjective  ends    in    er(e): 
gretter,  ferre  (contracted),  from  gret,  fer.     The  superlative 
ends  in  est  inflected  as  este :  the  frendlyeste. 

12.  Occasionally  as  in  A.  S.  the  comparison  of  adjectives 
shows  umlaut:  as  in  long,  lenger;  old,  elder.     Irregularity 
appears  in  certain  comparisons:  as  good,  and  better,  bettre, 
or  bet;  muche(l)  and  more  or  mo;  lyte(l)  and  lasse  or 
lesse. 

ADVERBS 

13.  The  adverb  ends  normally  in  e:  e.  g.,  sore,  smerte. 
Sometimes  the  e  is  not  found  in  the  A.  S.  original:  as  here 
(A.  S.  her).     Some  adverbs  do  not  take  a  final  e:  as  ful, 
streyght,  y-wys. 

14.  The  comparison  of  the  adverb  is  like  that  of  the  ad- 
jective: more,  lengere,  ferther.     Also  note  the  irregular 
forms:  bet,  mo,  lasse.     The  superlative  ends  in  est,  which 
after  a  definite  article  may  take  an  e :  the  moste  free. 

PRONOUNS 

15.  The  Personal  Pronoun  of  the  First  Person  has  two 


THE  LANGUAGE  xli 

forms  for  the  nominative  singular:  I  and  ich.    Otherwise  the 
forms  are  like  those  of  modern  English. 

1 6.  The  Second  Person  has  the  following  forms  in  the 
singular:  thou  (nom.),  thy,  thyn  (gen.),  thee  (dat.,  accus.); 
and  in  the  plural  it  has:  ye  (nom.),  your  (gen.),  you  (dat., 
accus.). 

17.  In  the  Third  Person  the  declension  is  as  follows: 

Sing.  Plu. 

Masc.    Neut.    Fern. 

N.    he         hit       she  they 

G.    his         his       hir(e),  her(e)  hir(e),  her(e) 

D.    him       him       hir(e),  her(e)  hem 

A.    him       hit        hir(e),  her(e)  hem 

1 8.  The  following  forms  appear  of   the  Possessive  Pro- 
nouns:—in  the  singular:  (first  person)  my,  myn,  (second  per- 
son) thy,  thyn,  (third  person)  his  (m.  n.),  hir(e),  her(e) 
(fern.);  in  the  plural:  (first  person)  our(e),  (second  person) 
your(e),  (third  person)  hir(e),  her(e).    The  forms  myn  and 
thyn  of  the  first  and  second  persons  respectively  are  usually 
employed  before  vowels.    The  final  e  of  hire,  here,  oure, 
youre,  hire,  here  (plural),  appears  chiefly  in  the  predicate 
use. 

19.  The  Demonstrative  Pronouns  are  inflected  as  follows: 

Sing,    this  that 

Plu.     this(e),  thes(e)      tho 

A  survival  from  an  old  dative  singular  is  found  in  the  phrase 
for  the  nonys  (A.  S.  for  )?sem  anes). 

20.  Of  the  Interrogative  Pronouns,  which  is  inflected  when 
it  is  used  as  an  adjective:  of  whiche  two,  the  whiche  day. 
Other  pronominal  forms  show  inflection:  al,  bothe,  self, 
swich,  are  sometimes  declined  like  adjectives. 

VERBS 

21.  In   order   to  understand  the  conjugation   of  verbs 
properly,  a  distinction  must  be  recognized  between  weak 
verbs,  which  form  their  preterit  by  adding  d  or  t,  and  strong 


xlii  INTRODUCTION 

verbs,  which  lack  a  special  preterit  ending  of  this  kind,  but 
which  indicate  the  change  in  tense  by  a  shift  in  the  root 
vowel.  Some  forms  of  this  vowel-shift  show  a  variety  of 
sound-change  known  as  "ablaut"  or  "vowel-gradation." 

22.  The  different  types  of  ablaut  or  vowel-gradation  in 
A.  S.  may  be  classified  in  six  principal  groups.  In  the  follow- 
ing table  it  will  be  seen  that  there  is  a  tendency  in  Middle 
English  to  drop  some  of  the  variations;  the  preterit  singular 
and  plural  are  often  identified  (except  for  the  endings).  New 
forms  are  introduced,  however,  which  complicate  the  scheme 
somewhat,  and  only  the  chief  forms  will  be  indicated  here. 

Class  I 

Infin.  Pret.  sing.    Pret.  plu.  Past  Partic. 

A.  S.      I  a  i  I 

M.  E.    ride(n)  r$d  ride(n)  riden 

So  agrise,  bide,  bite,  glide,  shine,  shrive,  etc. 

Class  II 

A.  S.     eo  ea  u  6 

M.  E.     f  §  |  (from  the  sing.)   $ 

bfde(n)  bfd  bfde(n)  bgden 

So  chf  se,  erf  pe,  elf  ve,  etc.  Sometimes  forms  in  i  or  ou  appear  in  the 
present  from  A.  S.  eo  +g  or  A.  S.  u  respectively. 


A.  S.      e,  I 
M.  E.    e,I 

helpe(n) 

binde(n) 

(i  lengthened 
before  nd) 

drinke(n) 
So  swelle,  kerve,  breste,  winne,  spinne,  beginne,  etc. 


Class  III 

a 

u 

u,6 

ft,  6 

6,u 

6,u 

halp 

holpe(n) 

hdlpen 

bond 

bounde(n) 

bounden 

(u  lengthened 

(u  lengthened 

before  nd; 

before  nd; 

ou=u.) 

ou  =u.) 

drank 

dronke(n) 

dronken 

(o=u) 

(o=fl) 

THE  LANGUAGE  xliii 

Class  IV 


A.  S.      e 

• 

A 

6 

M.  E.    f 

a 

f 

0 

b§re(n) 

bar 

bfre(n) 

bgren 

baren 

To  this  class  belong  stf  le,  shf  re,  hfle,  brfke,  spf  ke,  etc.    Two  verbs 
of  this  class  are  especially  irregular: 

come(o=u)        com  (cam)        come(n)        come(o=u) 
nime  nam  (n6m)      nome(n)         nomen  (o  =u) 

Class  V 


A.  S. 

e 

m 

ft 

e 

M.  E. 

§ 

a 

a,  f 

f 

gfte 

g*t 

gften 

yfve 

yaf 

yave(n) 

yfven 

fte 

eet 

fte(n) 

ften 

To  this  class  belong  wrf  ke  and  (with  i  and  a  double  consonant  in  the 
present)  bidde,  sitte,  ligge.    Sfn  is  irregular: 

sfn  saugh 

saw 
seigh 

say,  sey       seye(n)  seyn,  seye 

sy  sye(n) 

Class  VI 

A.  S.      a  6  6  a 

M.  E.    a  9  9  a 

take  tok  tpkeCn)  taken 

So  wake,  bake,  forsake,  shake,  shape,  etc.    Irregular  verbs  belonging 
to  this  class  include  the  following: 

stonde(n)  stpd  stgde(n)  stonden 

drawe(n)  drought  drowe(n)  drawen 

laughe(n  lough  laughen 

swfre(n)  swor  swgre(n)  swgrn 

23.  A  seventh  class  of  strong  verbs  is  formed  from  verbs  of 
which  the  preterit  tense-stems  were  once  reduplicated:  in  A.  S. 
these  reduplications  were  lost,  apparently  by  contraction. 


jdiv  INTRODUCTION 

Class  VII 

slepe(n)  slfp  slfpe(n)  slfpen 

wfpe(n)  wfp  wppen 

hQlde(n)  held  hflde(n)  hglden 

fille  fel(ffll)  fille  falle 

hgte  net  hgten 

In  general  the  characteristic  of  this  class  is  the  appearance  of  the  same 
vowel  in  the  present  (infin.)  and  the  past  participle,  and  $  or  ew  in  the 
preterit. 

24.  Sometimes  verbs  which  once  were  strong  have  become 
weak  or  have  weak  forms  in  Middle  English.     For  example: 
l§se  (class  II),  pret.  loste;  hfle  (class  IV),  pret.  h§led;  fare 
(class  VI),  pret.  ferde,  p.  p.  fared  (beside  the  strong  faren) ; 
slepe  (class  VII),  pret.  slepte  (also  the  strong  slep);  hgte 
(class  VII),  pret.  highte  (also  an  old  strong  preterit  night — 
A.  S.  hiht — which  serves  as  a  present). 

25.  The  weak  verbs  fall  into  two  classes: 

Infin.  Pret.  Past  Partic. 

Class  I  — e(n)         — ed(e)        — ed 

love(n)       loved(e)       loved 

So  were,  herie,  dere,  clepe,  make,  etc.  Verbs  from  O.  Fr.  are 
usually  conjugated  according  to  this  class. 

Class  II  — e(n)        — d(e),  — t(c)         — d,  — t 

here(n)      herde  herd 

So  also  fede,  lede  (with  pret.  ledde  or  ladde),  sette  (with  pret.  sette), 
etc.  To  this  class  also  belong  verbs  which  in  A.  S.  had  umlaut  in  the 
present  stem  but  not  in  the  preterit: 

telle  tolde  told 

strecche  straughte  straught 

reche  raughte  

seke  soughte  sought 

Irregularities  are  found  in  this  class:  dreme  and  seme  have  preterit  and 
past  participle  like  those  in  class  I;  deme  and  fele  have  past  participle 
in 


THE  LANGUAGE  xlv 

26.  The  conjugation  in  the  present  indicative  and  in  the 
present  subjunctive  is  the  same  for  both  strong  and  weak 
verbs: 

Indie.  Sing.  Plu. 

1.  speke          love  i.  2. 3.  speke(n)        love(n) 

2.  spekest        lovest 

3.  speketh        loveth 

Subj.  i.  2.  3.     speke     love      i.  2.  3.  speke(n)        love(n) 

In  the  third  person  singular  the  ending  is  frequently  — th :  and 
sometimes  the  form  is  contracted:  e.  g.,  setteth  >  set;  rideth 
>  lit.  A  third  person  singular  ending  in  es  is  occasionally 
found:  e.  g.,  telles. 

27.  In  the  preterit  indicative  the  conjugation  of   strong 
verbs  differs  from  that  of  weak  verbs  thus: 

Strong  Weak 

Sing.  i.  spak          fond  loved(e)        herde 

2.  spak(e)      found(e)  lovedest       herdest 

3.  spak           fond  loved(e)        herde 
Plu.    i.  2. 3.  spake(n)    founde(n)  lovede(n)    herde(n) 

In  A.  S.  the  second  person  singular  of  the  strong  verbs  has 
the  radical  vowel  of  the  plural;  but  in  M.  E.  it  often  takes  that 
of  the  first  and  third  persons  singular  by  analogy. 

28.  The  preterit  subjunctive  of  strong  verbs  is  formed  on 
the  stem  of  the  preterit  plural  indicative;  that  of  weak  verbs 
has  the  stem  of  the  preterit  indicative: 

Strong  Weak 

Sing,    spake  founde  lovede  herde 

Plu.     spake  (n)        founde  (n)  lovede  (n)        herde  (n) 

29.  The  imperative  of  strong  verbs  takes  no  ending  in  the 
singular,  and,  in  the  plural,  -e  or  -eth  or  no  ending;  that  of 
weak  verbs  sometimes  takes  -e  in  the  singular  and  -e  or  -eth 
or  no  ending  in  the  plural: 

Strong  Weak 

Sing.        tak  make      werk 

Plu.         taketh  maketh  werketh 


xlvi 


INTRODUCTION 


30.  The  infinitive  ends  in  -e  or  -en.    Stems  ending  in  a 
vowel  often  simply  have  -n:  e.  g.,  sen,  goon.    Some  cases  of 
an  inflected  infinitive  or  of  the  survival  of  the  gerund  from 
A.  S.  appear  in  such  phrases  as  to  sene,  to  done. 

31.  The  present  participle  ends  in  -ing(e).    The  final  e  is 
usually  sounded  only  at  the  end  of  a  verse. 

32.  The  past  participle  of  strong  verbs  ends  in  -e(n);  of 
weak  verbs,  in  -ed,  -d,  or  -t.  (see  §  25).    Frequently  the  prefix 
y  (from  the  A.  S.  ge)  appears:  y-taken,  y-sought. 

33.  Preterit-present   verbs   have    a    somewhat   irregular 
conjugation.     These  verbs  were  originally  formed  from  the 
preterit  tense  of  strong  verbs  which,  in  that  tense,  had  come 
to  have  a  present  meaning.    Thus  A.  S.  wat  (from  the  strong 
verb  witan,  class  I,  "to  pay  heed  to,' '  "to  see")  means  "I 
have  learned,"  "I  know."    For  these  verbs  a  new  preterit 
was  created  on  the  basis  of  weak  verbs,  and  a  new  second 
person  singular  (in  the  present  indicative)  from  the  present 
(former  preterit)  stem. 

34.  These  verbs  may  be  classified  according  to  the  types  of 
strong  verbs  from  which  they  came: 


Class  I 

A.  S.  witan 

M.  E.  wite(n) 

Sing. 

Plu. 

Pres.  indie. 

I.   WQt                          I. 

2.  3.  wite(n),  wgte(n) 

2.   WQSt 

3-   WQt 

Preterit 

i.  wiste               i. 

2.  3.  wiste  (n) 

2.  wistest 

3.  wiste 

A.  S.  agan 

M.  E.  owe(n) 

Pres.  indie. 

i.  owe                 i. 

2.  3.  owe(n) 

2.  owest 

3.  owe 

Preterit 

oghte 

Class  III 

A.  S.  cunnan 

M.  E.  conne(n) 

Pres.  indie. 

i.  can                  i. 

2.  3.  conne,  can 

2.  canst 

3.  can 

Preterit 

couthe,  coude 

THE  LANGUAGE 


xlvii 


A.  S.  Jmrfan 
Pres.  indie.    3.  thai 
Preterit  thurfte 

A.  S.  durran       M.  E.  durre 
Pres.  indie,    i.  dar  i.  2.  3.  dar  dorr, 

2.  darst 

3.  dar 
Preterit              dorste 

Class  IV  A.  S.  sculan 

Pres.  indie,     i.  shal  i.  2.  3.  shul,  shulle(n),  shal 

2.  shalt 

3.  shal 

Preterit  sholde,  shulde. 

Class  V  A.  S.  magan         M.  E.  mowe(n) 

Pres.  indie,     i.  may  i.  2.  3.  mowe,may 

2.  mayst 

3-  may 
Preterit  myghte 

Class  VI  A.  S.  motan 

Pres.  indie,     i.  mot  i.  2.  3.  mote(n) 

2.  moste 

3.  mot 
Preterit              moste 

35.  Other  irregular  verbs  include  be,  wil,  do,  go,  and  have, 
which  are  conjugated  as  follows: 


Sing. 

(a)  Pres.  indie,  i.  am 
2.  art 
3-  is 

subj.      i.  2.  3.  bf 
imper.          bf 
Pret.  indie,     i.   was 

2.  wfre 

3.  was 
subj.    i.  2.  3.  wfre 

Past  partic.          been 


Plu. 
i.  2.  3.  bf  (n)  bfth  am 


i.  2.  3.  bfn 
bfth 

i.  2.  3.  wfre(n) 


i.  2.  3.  wfre  (n) 


xlviii 


INTRODUCTION 


(b)      Pres.  indie,     i.  wil,  wol 


1.2.3. 


wol(e)(n) 


(c) 


2.  wilt,  wolt 

3.  wil,  wol 

subj.      i.  2.  3.  wil(e),  wol(e)  i.  2.  3.  wil(e),  wol(e) 
Pret.  indie,     i.  wolde  i.  2.  3.  wolde  (n) 

2.  woldest 

3.  wolde 
subj.          wolde 

Past  partic.         wold 


i.  2.  3.  dpn 


i.  2.  3.  doon 
i.  2.  3.  dide(n) 


Pres.  indie. 

i.  do 

2.  dOst 

3.  dOth 

subj. 

i.  2.  3.  d< 

Pret.  indie. 

i.  did(e) 

2.  didest 

3-  dld(e) 

Imper. 

dO 

(d)      Pres.  indie. 


subj.      i.  2.  3.  gO 
imper.         gO 
Preterit  (wente,  yf  de) 


(e)       Pres.  indie. 


subj. 
Pret.  indie. 


Imper 


1.  have 

2.  hast 

3.  hath 

i.  2.  3.  have 

1.  had(de) 

2.  haddest 

3.  had(de) 
hav(e) 


dOth 

i.  2.  3.  gO(n) 


i.  2.  3.  gOn 
gOth 


i.  2.  3.  han,  have 


i.  2.  3.  have 
i.  2.  3.  hadde(n) 


haveth 


36.  From  this  grammatical  outline  the  forms  in  which 
final  unaccented  e  are  justified  may  be  determined.  The 
student  must  bear  in  mind,  however,  that  only  the  more 
customary  forms  are  cited,  and  that  there  are  numerous 
irregularities  of  which  we  cannot  here  take  account  but  which 
must  be  studied  in  relation  to  their  context.  Furthermore,  it 
is  necessary  to  remember  that  not  all  of  the  justifiable  final 


THE  LANGUAGE  xlix 

e's  are  to  be  pronounced.  Those  which  occur  at  the  end  of  a 
verse  are  almost  always  sounded;  but  within  the  line  the  needs 
of  the  measure  are  the  determining  factor.  For  instance, 
final  e  in  adjectives  of  more  than  two  syllables  is  usually  not 
sounded.  In  general  final  e  is  usually  elided  before  vowels 
or  "weak  h"  (as  in  he,  her,  hadde,  here,  etc.,  or  the 
French  h  in  honour,  humblesse,  etc.).  A  table  giving  the 
quality  of  the  sounds  in  Chaucer's  language  will  be  found  on 
the  page  facing  the  text;  and  in  the  text  itself  the  final  e's 
which  are  printed  but  which  are  probably  not  to  be  sounded 
are  indicated  by  a  dot  beneath  the  letter.  The  dotting  of  the 
e's,  however,  is  not  intended  to  impose  restrictions  on  the 
reader,  but  is  purely  advisory. 


V.  BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  SUGGESTIONS 

1.  Bibliography: 

E.  P.  Hammond,  Chaucer:  A  Bibliographical  Manual,  N.  Y.,  1908. 
J.  E.  Wells,  A  Manual  of  the  Writings  in  Middle  English,  1050-1400, 

New  Haven,  1916,  pp.  5995.,  866ff.     Also  the  First  Supplement, 

New  Haven,  1919,  pp.  9942.,  10275. 

2.  Editions: 

Rev.  W.  W.  Skeat,  The  Complete  Works  of  Geoffrey  Chaucer,  in  six 

volumes,  Oxford,  1894-1900. 
Rev.  W.  W.  Skeat,  The  Student's  Chaucer,  in  one  volume,  Oxford 

University  Press. 
Pollard,  Heath,  Liddell,  and  McCormick,  The  Works  of  Chaucer, 

the  Globe  Edition,  in  one  volume,  Macmillan  and  Co. 

3.  Criticism: 

T.  R.  Lounsbury,  Studies  in  Chaucer,  in  three  volumes,  N.  Y.,  1892. 

G.  L.  Kittredge,  Chaucer  and  his  Poetry,  Cambridge,  1915. 

E.  Legouis,  Geoffrey  Chaucer,  translated  by  L.  Lailavoix,  London, 


R.  K.  Root,  The  Poetry  of  Chaucer,  Boston,  1906. 


SELECTIONS  FROM  CHAUCER 


THE  SOUNDS  OF  CHAUCER'S  LANGUAGE 

The  Vowels: 

a  like  a  in  father e.  g.  bathed. 

a  like  a  in  German  man that. 

f  (close)  like  a  in  name swete. 

f  (open)  like  e  in  there heeth. 

6  like  e  in  met hem. 

I    (y)  like  the  i  in  machine ride,  ryde. 

i    (y)  like  i  in  pin his,  dyde. 

9  (close)  like  o  in  note roote. 

9  (open)  like  a  in  all everychon. 

6  like  o  in  not,  hot croppes. 

u  (ou,  ow,  o)  like  oo  in  moon droghte,  fowles,  flour. 

u  (o)  like  u  in  full ful,  sonne. 

ii  like  ii  in  French  user vertu. 

Final  unaccented  e  was  pronounced  like  a  in  about:  e.  g.  sonne. 

The  Diphthongs: 

ai  (ay),  ei  (ey)  like  ay  in  day  or  ei  in  veil day,  wey. 

au  (aw)  like  ou  in  house draughte. 

f  u  (ew)  f  and  u  sounded  together  with  stress  on  the  f knew. 

f  u  (ew)  $  and  u  sounded  together  with  stress  on  the  f fewe. 

oi  (oy)  like  oy  in  boy coy. 

6u  (ow)  o  and  u  sounded  together  with  stress  on  o foughten, 

bowe. 

Note:  the  vowels  of  Chaucer's  day  were  probably  sounded  without  the 
addition  of  the  i  or  u  glide  which  we  attach  today:  e.  g.  6  in  modern  Eng- 
lish note  is  usually  pronounced  as  o+u;  a  in  name  as  a+i. 

The  Consonants: 

The  Middle  English  consonant-sounds  were  much  like  those  of  modern 
English.  There  were,  however,  no  silent  consonants:  medial  and  final 
gh  had  the  sound  of  ch  in  modern  German  ich  or  nacht ;  k,  1,  and  w  were 
never  silent:  e.  g.  knyght,  palmeres,  write ;  ng  followed  by  a  vowel  was 
pronounced  like  ng  in  finger:  cf .  yonge.  Other  differences  are  as  follows: 
r  was  trilled;  s  and  th  when  final  or  next  voiceless  consonants  were  un- 
voiced (like  s  in  this,  and  th  in  thing) ;  th  in  proper  names  was  probably 
sounded  like  t;  -cion,  -tion,  -sion,  were  pronounced  clearly  as  in  French 
with  the  consonants  distinct  (as  -sion,  not  -shun) ;  g  before  e  or  i  was 
often  pronounced  as  in  modern  English  gem  or  ginger:  e.  g.  age,  gipser. 

In  the  manuscripts  a  double  vowel  indicates  a  long  vowel;  u  before  n, 
m  or  u,  and  occasionally  after  c  or  w,  is  written  o:  e.  g.  sonne,  coppe;  u 
and  v  are  interchangeable,  and  so  are  i  and  y.  These  features  are  retained 
in  the  present  text. 


SELECTIONS  FROM  CHAUCER 

-    «  V        •>  I 

THE  BOOK  OF  TEE  BUCHESSE 


I  have  gret  wonder,  by  this  light, 
How  that  I  live;  for  day  ne  night 
I  may  nat  slepe  wel  nigh  noght. 
I  have  so  many  an  ydel  thoght 
Purely  for  defaute  of  sleep 
That,  by  my  trouthe,  I  take  no  keep 
Of  no-thing,  how  hit  cometh  or  goth, 
Ne  me  nis  no-thing  leef  nor  loth. 
Al  is  y-liche  good  to  me  — 
loye  or  sorowe,  wherso  hit  be  — 
For  I  have  feling  in  no-thing, 
But,  as  it  were,  a  mased  thing, 
Alway  in  point  to  falle  a-doun: 
For  sorwful  imaginacioun 
Is  alway  hoolly  in  my  minde. 

And  wel  ye  woote,  agaynes  kinde 
Hit  were  to  liven  in  this  wyse; 
For  nature  wolde  nat  suffyse 
To  noon  erthely  creature 
Not  longe  tyme  to  endure 
Withoute  sleep,  and  be  in  sorwe. 
And  I  ne  may,  ne  night  ne  morwe, 
Slepe;  and  this  melancolye 
And  drede  I  have  for  to  dye, 
Defaute  of  sleep,  and  hevinesse 
Hath  sleyn  my  spirit  of  quiknesse 
That  I  have  lost  al  lustihede: 
Suche  fantasyes  ben  in  myn  hede. 
So  I  not  what  is  best  to  do. 


CHAUCER 

But  men  mighte  axe  me,  why  so 
I  may  not  slepe,  and  what  me  is, 
But  natheles,  who  aske  this 

•  «        Lebeih  bis  asking  trewely. 

My-selven  can  not  telle  why 
.    :' .  .'The  sooth;  hut  trewly,  as  I  gesse, 

*  •*  :  -T'holde  bit.be  a  siknesse 

That  I  have  suffred  this  eight  yeer. 

And  yet  my  bote  is  nevere  the  neer; 

For  ther  is  phisicien  but  oon, 

That  may  me  hele.    But  that  is  doon. 

Passe  we  over  until  eft: 

That  wil  not  be,  moot  nede  be  left; 

Our  first  matere  is  good  to  kepe. 

So  whan  I  saw  I  might  not  slepe 
Til  now  late,  this  other  night, 
Upon  my  bed  I  sat  upright 
And  bad  oon  reche  me  a  book, 
A  romaunce,  and  he  hit  me  took 
To  rede  and  dryve  the  night  away. 
For  me  thoghte  it  better  play 
Than  play  either  at  chesse  or  tables. 

And  in  this  book  were  writen  fables 
That  clerkes  hadde,  in  olde  tyme, 
And  other  poets,  put  in  ryme 
To  rede,  and  for  to  be  in  minde 
Whyl  men  loved  the  lawe  of  kinde. 
This  book  ne  spak  but  of  such  thinges, 
Of  quenes  lyves,  and  of  kinges, 
And  many  othere  thinges  smale. 
Among  al  this  I  fond  a  tale 
That  me  thoughte  a  wonder  thing. 

This  was  the  tale:  Ther  was  a  king 
That  highte  Seys,  and  had  a  wyf, 
The  beste  that  mighte  bere  lyf 
And  this  quene  highte  Alcyone. 
So  hit  befel,  therafter  sone, 
This  king  wol  wenden  over  see. 


68-ios          THE  BOOK  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

To  tellen  shortly,  whan  that  he 
Was  in  the  see,  thus  in  this  wyse, 
Soch  a  tempest  gan  to  ryse 
That  brak  hir  mast,  and  made  it  falle, 
And  clefte  hir  ship,  and  dreinte  hem  alle, 
That  nevere  was  founden,  as  it  telles, 
Bord  ne  man,  ne  nothing  elles. 
Right  thus  this  king  Seys  loste  his  lyf. 

Now  for  to  speken  of  his  wyf : — 
This  lady,  that  was  left  at  horn, 
Hath  wonder  that  the  king  ne  com 
Hoom,  for  hit  was  a  longe  terme. 
Anon  her  herte  gan  to  erme. 
And  for  that  hir  thoughte  everemo, 
Hit  was  not  wel  hir  thoughte  so. 
She  longed  so  after  the  king 
That  certes  hit  were  a  pitous  thing 
To  telle  hir  hertely  sorwful  lyf 
That  hadde,  alas!  this  noble  wyf, 
For  him  she  loved  alderbest. 
Anon  she  sente  bothe  eest  and  west 
To  seke  him,  but  they  founde  nought. 

"Alas!"  quoth  she,  "that  I  was  wrought! 
And  wher  my  lord,  my  love,  be  deed? 
Certes,  I  nil  nevere  ete  breed, 
I  make  a-vow  to  my  god  here, 
But  I  mowe  of  my  lord  here!" 
Such  sorwe  this  lady  to  her  took 
That  trewely  I,  which  made  this  book, 
Had  swich  pite  and  swich  rowthe 
To  rede  hir  sorwe,  that,  by  my  trowthe, 
I  ferde  the  worse  al  the  morwe 
After,  to  thenken  on  her  sorwe. 

So  when  this  lady  coude  here  no  word 
That  no  man  mighte  fynde  hir  lord, 
Ful  oft  she  swouned  and  seide  "Alas!" 
For  sorwe  ful  nigh  wood  she  was. 
Ne  she  coude  no  reed  but  oon; 

Sk.  68-105 


CHAUCER  106-143 

But  doun  on  knees  she  sat  anoon 
And  weep,  that  pite  was  to  here. 
"A!  mercy!  swete  lady  dere!" 
Quod  she  to  luno,  hir  goddesse. 
"Help  me  out  of  this  distresse, 
And  yeve  me  grace  my  lord  to  see 
Sone,  or  wite  wher-so  he  be, 
Or  how  he  fareth  or  in  what  wyse, 
And  I  shal  make  you  sacrifyse, 
And  hoolly  youres  become  I  shal 
With  good  wille,  body,  herte,  and  al. 
And  but  thou  wilt  this,  lady  swete, 
Send  me  grace  to  slepe,  and  mete 
In  my  sleep  som  certeyn  sweven, 
Wher-through  that  I  may  knowen  even 
Whether  my  lord  be  quik  or  deed." 
With  that  word  she  heng  doun  the  heed, 
And  fil  a-swown  as  cold  as  ston. 
Hir  women  caughte  her  up  anon, 
And  broghten  hir  in  bed  al  naked; 
And  she,  forweped  and  forwaked, 
Was  wery,  and  thus  the  dede  sleep 
Fil  on  her,  or  she  took  keep, 
Through  luno,  that  had  herd  hir  bone, 
That  made  hir  to  slepe  sone. 
For  as  she  prayde,  right  so  was  don 
In  dede;  for  luno  right  anon 
Called  thus  her  messager 
To  do  her  erand,  and  he  com  neer. 
Whan  he  was  come,  she  bad  him  thus: 
"Go  bet,"  quod  luno,  "to  Morpheus — 
Thou  knowest  him  wel,  the  god  of  sleep. 
Now  understond  wel  and  tak  keep. 
Sey  thus  on  my  half,  that  he 
Go  faste  into  the  grete  see, 
And  bid  him  that  on  alle  thing 
He  take  up  Seys'  body  the  king, 
That  lyth  ful  pale  and  no-thing  rody. 

Sk.  106-143 


144-181         THE  BOOK  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

Bid  him  crepe  into  the  body 
And  do  it  goon  to  Alcyone 
The  quene,  ther  she  lyth  alone, 
And  shewe  hir  shortly,  hit  is  no  nay, 
How  hit  was  dreynt  this  other  day; 
And  do  the  body  speke  right  so, 
Right  as  hit  was  wont  to  do 
The  whyles  that  hit  was  on  lyve. 
Go  now  faste,  and  hy  thee  blyve!" 

This  messager  took  leve  and  wente 
Upon  his  wey,  and  nevere  ne  stente 
Til  he  com  to  the  derke  valeye 
That  stant  bytwene  roches  tweye, 
Ther  nevere  yet  grew  corn  ne  gras, 
Ne  tree,  ne  nothing  that  ought  was, 
Beste,  ne  man,  ne  nothing  elles, 
Save  ther  were  a  fewe  welles 
Came  renning  fro  the  cliffes  adoun, 
That  made  a  deedly  sleping  soun, 
And  ronnen  doun  right  by  a  cave 
That  was  under  a  rokke  y-grave 
Amid  the  valeye  wonder  depe. 
Ther  thise  goddes  laye  and  slepe, 
Morpheus,  and  Eclympasteyr 
(That  was  the  god  of  slepes  heyr), 
That  slepe  and  did  non  other  werk, 

This  cave  was  also  as  derk 
As  helle  pit  over-al  aboute. 
They  had  good  leyser  for  to  route, 
To  envye  who  might  slepe  best. 
Some  henge  hir  chin  upon  hir  brest 
And  slepe  upright,  hir  heed  y-hed, 
And  some  laye  naked  in  hir  bed, 
And  slepe  whyles  the  dayes  laste. 

This  messager  com  flying  faste, 
And  cryed,  "O  ho!  awak  anon!" 
Hit  was  for  noght;  ther  herde  him  non. 
"Awak!"  quod  he,  "who  is,  lyth  there? " 

Sk.  144-181 


CHAUCER  182-219 

And  blew  his  horn  right  in  hir  ere, 
And  cryed  "Awaketh!"  wonder  hye. 
This  god  of  sleep  with  his  oon  ye 
Cast  up  and  axed,  "Who  clepeth  ther?" 
"Hit  am  I,"  quod  this  messager; 
"luno  bad  thou  shuldest  goon" — 
And  tolde  him  what  he  shulde  doon 
As  I  have  told  yow  heer-tofore: 
Hit  is  no  need  reherse  hit  more: 
And  wente  his  wey,  whan  he  had  sayd. 

Anon  this  god  of  sleep  a-brayd 
Out  of  his  sleep,  and  gan  to  goon 
And  did  as  he  had  bede  him  doon, 
Took  up  the  dreynte  body  sone 
And  bar  hit  forth  to  Alcyone, 
His  wyf  the  quene,  ther-as  she  lay, 
Right  even  a  quarter  before  day, 
And  stood  right  at  hir  beddes  feet, 
And  called  hir  right  as  she  heet 
By  name,  and  seyde,  "My  swete  wyf, 
Awak!  let  be  your  sorwful  lyf ! 
For  in  your  sorwe  ther  ly th  no  reed ; 
For  certes,  swete,  I  am  but  deed. 
Ye  shul  me  nevere  on  lyve  y-see. 
But  goode  swete  herte,  that  ye 
Bury  my  body,  for  such  a  tyde 
Ye  mowe  hit  finde  the  see  besyde. 
And  far-wel,  swete,  my  worldes  blisse! 
I  praye  God  your  sorwe  lisse. 
To  litel  whyl  our  blisse  lasteth!" 

With  that  hir  eyen  up  she  casteth, 
And  saw  noght.    "Alias!"  quod  she  for  sorwe, 
And  deyed  within  the  thridde  morwe. 
But  what  she  sayde  more  in  that  swow 
I  may  not  telle  yow  as  now; 
It  were  to  longe  for  to  dwelle. 
My  first  matere  I  wil  yow  telle, 
Wherfore  I  have  told  this  thing 

Sk.  182-219 


220-257         THE  BOOK  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

Of  Alcione  and  Seys  the  king. 

For  thus  moche  dar  I  saye  wel: 
I  had  be  dolven  everydel, 
And  deed,  right  through  defaute  of  sleep, 
If  I  nad  red  and  taken  keep 
Of  this  tale  next  before. 
And  I  wol  telle  yow  wherfore; 
For  I  ne  might,  for  bote.  ne  bale, 
Slepe  or  I  had  red  this  tale 
Of  this  dreynte  Seys  the  king 
And  of  the  goddes  of  sleping. 
Whan  I  had  red  this  tale  wel 
And  over-loked  hit  everydel, 
Me  though te  wonder  if  hit  were  so; 
For  I  had  nevere  herd  speke,  or  tho, 
Of  no  goddes  that  coude  make 
Men  to  slepe,  ne  for  to  wake, 
For  I  ne  knew  nevere  god  but  oon. 
And  in  my  game  I  sayde  anoon 
(And  yet  me  list  right  evel  to  pleye) 
"  Rather  then  that  I  shulde  deye 
Through  defaute  of  sleping  thus, 
I  wolde  yive  thilke  Morpheus, 
Or  his  goddesse,  dame  luno, 
Or  som  wight  elles,  I  ne  roghte  who — 
To  make  me  slepe  and  have  som  reste — 
I  wil  yive  him  the  alder-beste 
Yifte  that  evere  he  abood  his  lyve, 
And  here  on  warde,  right  now,  as  blyve. 
If  he  wol  make  me  slepe  a  lyte, 
Of  downe  of  pure  dowves  whyte 
I  wil  yive  him  a  fether-bed, 
Rayed  with  gold,  and  right  wel  cled 
In  fyn  blak  satin  doutremere, 
And  many  a  pilow,  and  every  bere 
Of  cloth  of  Reynes,  to  slepe  softe; 
Him  thar  not  nede  to  turnen  of  te. 
And  I  wol  yive  him  al  that  falles 

Sk.  220-257 


CHAUCER 

To  a  chambre;  and  al  his  halles 
I  wol  do  peynte  with  pure  gold 
And  tapite  hem  ful  many  a  fold 
Of  oo  sute.    This  shal  he  have, 
If  I  wiste  wher  were  his  cave, 
If  he  can  make  me  slepe  sone 
As  did  the  goddesse  Alcione. 
And  thus  this  ilke  god,  Morpheus, 
May  winne  of  me  mo  fees  thus 
Than  evere  he  wan.    And  to  luno, 
That  is  his  goddesse,  I  shall  so  do, 
I  trow  that  she  shal  holde  her  payd. 

I  had  unnethe  that  word  y-sayd 
Right  thus  as  I  have  told  hit  yow, 
That  sodeynly,  I  niste  how, 
Swich  a  lust  anoon  me  took 
To  slepe,  that  right  upon  my  book 
I  fil  asleep,  and  therwith  even 
Me  mette  so  inly  swete  a  sweven, 
So  wonderful  that  nevere  yit 
I  trowe  no  man  hadde  the  wit 
To  conne  wel  my  sweven  rede: 
No,  not  loseph,  withoute  drede, 
Of  Egypte,  he  that  redde  so 
The  kinges  meting  Pharao, 
No  more  than  coude  the  leste  of  us; 
Ne  nat  scarsly  Macrobeus, 
(He  that  wroot  al  thavisioun 
That  he  mette,  King  Scipioun, 
The  noble  man,  the  Affrican — 
Swiche  mervayles  fortuned  than) 
I  trowe,  a-rede  my  dremes  even. 
Lo,  thus  hit  was,  this  was  my  sweven. 

The  Dream 

Me  thoughte  thus: — that  hit  was  May, 

And  in  the  dawning  ther  I  lay, 

Me  mette  thus,  in  my  bed  al  naked; 


?94-33i         THE  BOOK  OF  THE  DUCHESSE 

And  loked  forth,  for  I  was  waked 

With  smale  foules  a  gret  heep, 

That  had  affrayed  me  out  of  my  sleep 

Through  noyse  and  swetnesse  of  hir  song. 

And,  as  me  mette,  they  sate  among 

Upon  my  chambre-roof  withoute, 

Upon  the  tyles  over-al  a-boute, 

And  songen,  everich  in  his  wyse, 

The  moste  solempne  servyse 

By  note,  that  evere  man,  I  trowe, 

Had  herd;  for  som  of  hem  song  lowe, 

Som  hye,  and  al  of  oon  acord. 

To  telle  shortly,  at  oo  word, 

Was  nevere  y-herd  so  swete  a  stevene 

But  hit  had  be  a  thing  of  hevene: 

So  merye  a  soun,  so  swete  entunes, 

That  certes,  for  the  toun  of  Tewnes 

I  nolde  but  I  had  herd  hem  singe; 

For  al  my  chambre  gan  to  ringe 

Through  singing  of  hir  armonye. 

For  instrument  nor  melodye 

Was  nowher  herd  yet  half  so  swete, 

Nor  of  acorde  half  so  mete; 

For  ther  was  noon  of  hem  that  feyned 

To  singe,  for  ech  of  hem  him  peyned 

To  finde  oute  merye  crafty  notes. 

They  ne  spared  not  hir  throtes. 

And  sooth  to  seyn,  my  chambre  was 

Ful  wel  depeynted,  and  with  glas 

Were  al  the  windowes  wel  y-glased 

Ful  clere,  and  nat  an  hool  y-crased, 

That  to  beholde  hit  was  gret  loye. 

For  hoolly  al  the  storie  of  Troye 

Was  in  the  glasing  y-wroght  thus 

Of  Ector  and  of  King  Priamus, 

Of  Achilles  and  of  King  Lamedon, 

And  eek  of  Medea  and  of  lason, 

Of  Paris,  Eleyne,  and  of  Lavyne. 

Sk.  294-331 


10  CHAUCER 


332-369 


And  all?  the  walles  with  colours  fyne 
Were  peynted,  bothe  text  and  glose, 
And  al  the  Romaunce  of  the  Rose. 
My  windowes  weren  shet  echon, 
And  through  the  glas  the  sunne  shon 
Upon  my  bed  with  brighte  bemes, 
With  many  glade  gilden  stremes. 
And  eek  the  welken  was  so  fair, 
Blew,  bright,  clere  was  the  air, 
And  ful  atempre  for  sothe  hit  was: 
For  nother  to  cold  nor  hoot  hit  nas, 
Ne  in  al  the  welken  was  a  cloude. 
And  as  I  lay  thus,  wonder  loude 
Me  thoughte  I  herde  an  hunte  blowe 
Tassaye  his  horn,  and  for  to  knowe 
Whether  hit  were  cleer  or  hors  of  soun. 
And  I  herde  going  bothe  up  and  doun, 
Men,  hors,  houndes,  and  other  thing, 
And  al  men  speken  of  hunting, 
How  they  wolde  slee  the  hert  with  strengthe, 
And  how  the  hert  had,  upon  lengthe, 
So  moche  embosed,  I  not  now  what. 
Anon-right  whan  I  herde  that, 
How  that  they  wolde  on  hunting  goon, 
I  was  right  glad,  and  up  anoon 
Took  my  hors,  and  forth  I  wente 
Out  of  my  chambre.    I  nevere  stente 
Til  I  com  to  the  feld  withoute. 
Ther  overtook  I  a  gret  route 
Of  huntes  and  eek  of  foresteres, 
With  many  relayes  and  lymeres, 
And  hyed  hem  to  the  forest  faste 
And  I  with  hem.    So  at  the  laste 
I  asked  oon,  ladde  a  lymere: 
"Say,  felowe,  who  shal  hunte  here?" 
Quod  I,  and  he  answerde  ageyn: 
"Sir,  themperour  Octovien," 
Quod  he,  "and  is  heer  faste  by." 

Sk.  332-369 


THE  BOOK  OF  THE  DUCHESSE  11 

"A  Goddes  half,  in  good  tyme!"  quod  I, 
"Go  we  faste!"  and  gan  to  ryde. 
Whan  we  came  to  the  f orest-syde, 
Every  man  did  right  anoon 
As  to  hunting  fil  to  doon. 
The  mayster-hunte  anoon,  fot-hoot, 
With  a  gret  horn  blew  three  moot 
At  the  uncoupling  of  his  houndes. 
Within  a  whyl  the  hert  y-founde  is, 
Y-halowed  and  rechased  faste 
Longe  tyme;  and  so  at  the  laste 
This  hert  rused  and  stal  away 
Fro  alle  the  houndes  a  prevy  way. 
The  houndes  had  overshote  hem  alle, 
And  were  on  a  defaute  y-falle. 
Therwith  the  hunte  wonder  faste 
Blew  a  forloyn  at  the  laste. 

I  was  go  walked  fro  my  tree, 
And  as  I  wente,  ther  cam  by  me 
A  whelp,  that  fauned  me  as  I  stood, 
That  had  y-folowed,  and  coude  no  good. 
Hit  coom  and  creep  to  me  as  lowe, 
Right  as  hit  hadde  me  y-knowe, 
Hild  doun  his  heed  and  loyned  his  eres, 
And  leyde  al  smothe  doun  his  heres. 
I  wolde  have  caught  hit,  and  anoon 
Hit  fledde  and  was  fro  me  goon. 
And  I  him  folwed,  and  hit  forth  wente 
Doun  by  a  floury  grene  wente 
Ful  thikke  of  gras,  ful  softe  and  swete, 
With  floures  fele,  faire  under  fete, 
And  litel  used,  hit  semed  thus: 
For  bothe  Flora  and  Zephirus, 
They  two  that  make  floures  growe, 
Had  made  hir  dwelling  ther,  I  trowe. 
For  hit  was,  on  to  beholde, 
As  thogh  the  erthe  envye  wolde 
To  be  gayer  than  the  hevene 


12  CHAUCER  408-445 

To  have  mo  floures,  swiche  sevene 
As  in  the  welken  sterres  be. 
Hit  had  forgete  the  povertee 
That  winter  through  his  colde  morwes 
Had  mad  hit  suffren,  and  his  sorwes: 
Al  was  forgeten,  and  that  was  sene. 
For  al  the  wode  was  waxen  grene, 
Swetnesse  of  dewe  had  mad  it  waxe. 

Hit  is  no  nede  eek  for  to  axe 
Wher  ther  were  many  grene  greves, 
Or  thikke  of  trees  so  ful  of  leves; 
And  every  tree  stood  by  him-selve 
Fro  other  wel  ten  foot  or  twelve: 
So  grete  trees,  so  huge  of  strengthe, 
Of  fourty  or  fifty  fadme  lengthe, 
Clene  withoute  bough  or  stikke, 
With  croppes  brode  and  eek  as  thikke — 
They  were  nat  an  inche  a-sonder — 
That  hit  was  shadwe  over-al  under. 
And  many  an  hert  and  many  an  hinde 
Was  both  before  me  and  bihinde. 
Of  founes,  soures,  bukkes,  does 
Was  ful  the  wode,  and  many  roes, 
And  many  squirelles,  that  sete 
Ful  hye  upon  the  trees  and  ete 
And  in  hir  maner  made  festes. 
Shortly,  hit  was  so  ful  of  bestes 
That  thogh  Argus,  the  noble  countour, 
Sete  to  rekene  in  his  countour 
And  rekene  with  his  figures  ten 
(For  by  tho  figures  mowe  al  ken, 
If  they  be  crafty,  rekene  and  noumbre 
And  telle  of  every  thing  the  noumbre) 
Yet  shulde  he  fayle  to  rekene  even 
The  wondres  me  mette  in  my  sweven. 

But  forth  they  romed  right  wonder  faste 
Doun  the  wode.    So  at  the  laste 
I  was  war  of  a  man  in  blak, 

Sk.  408-445 


446-483         THE  BOOK  OF  THE  DUCHESSE  13 

That  sat  and  had  y- turned  his  bak 

To  an  ook,  an  huge  tree. 

"Lord!"  thoughte  I,  "who  may  that  be? 

What  ayleth  him  to  sitten  heer?" 

Anoon-right  I  wente  neer. 

Than  fond  I  sitten  even  upright 

A  wonder  wel-faringe  knight 

(By  the  maner  me  thoughte  so) 

Of  good  mochel  and  right  yong  thereto, 

Of  the  age  of  four  and  twenty  yeer. 

Upon  his  berd  but  litel  heer, 

And  he  was  clothed  al  in  blak. 

I  stalked  even  unto  his  bak 

And  ther  I  stood  as  stille  as  ought 

That,  sooth  to  saye,  he  saw  me  nought. 

He  sayde  a  lay,  a  maner  song, 

Withoute  note,  withoute  song, 

And  hit  was  this  (for  wel  I  can 

Reherse  hit) — right  thus  hit  began: — 

"I  have  of  sorwe  so  gret  woon 

That  loye  gete  I  nevere  noon 
Now  that  I  see  my  lady  bright, 
Which  I  have  loved  with  al  my  might, 
Is  fro  me  deed,  and  is  a-goon. 

"Alias,  O  Deeth!  what  ayleth  thee, 
That  thou  noldest  have  taken  me 

Whan  that  thou  toke  my  lady  swete? 
That  was  so  fayr,  so  freshe,  so  free, 
So  good,  that  men  may  wel  see 

Of  al  goodnesse  she  had  no  mete!" — 
Whan  he  had  maad  thus  his  complaynte, 
His  sorowful  herte  gan  faste  faynte; 
For  he  had  wel  nigh  lost  his  minde, 
Thogh  Pan,  that  men  clepe  god  of  kinde, 
Were  for  his  sorwes  nevere  so  wrooth. 

But  at  the  laste,  to  sayn  right  sooth, 
He  was  war  of  me,  how  I  stood 
Before  him  and  did  of  myn  hood 

Sk. 446-460;  471-488;  511-516 


14  CHAUCER 

And  had  y-gret  him  as  I  best  coude. 
Debonairly  and  no- thing  loude 
He  sayde,  "I  prey  thee,  be  not  wrooth. 
I  herde  thee  not,  to  sayn  the  sooth, 
Ne  I  saw  thee  not,  sir,  trewely." 

"A!  goode  sir,  no  fors,"  quod  I, 
"  I  am  right  sory  if  I  have  ought 
Destroubled  yow  out  of  your  thought. 
For-yive  me  if  I  have  mis- take." 

"  Yis,  thamendes  is  light  to  make," 
Quod  he,  "for  ther  lyth  noon  ther-to. 
Ther  is  no-thing  missayd  nor  do." 

Lo!  how  goodly  spak  this  knight, 
As  it  had  been  another  wight; 
He  made  it  nouther  tough  ne  queynte. 
And  I  saw  that  and  gan  me  aqueynte 
With  him,  and  fond  him  so  tretable, 
Right  wonder  skilful  and  resonable, 
As  me  thoghte,  for  al  his  bale. 
Anoon-right  I  gan  finde  a  tale 
To  him,  to  loke  wher  I  might  ought 
Have  more  knowing  of  his  thought. 

"  Sire,"  quod  I,  "this  game  is  doon. 
I  holde  that  this  hert  be  goon: 
Thise  huntes  conne  him  no  wher  see." 

"I  do  no  fors  thereof,"  quod  he, 
"My  thought  is  ther-on  nevere  a  del." 

"By  our  Lord,"  quod  I,  "I  trow  yow  wel, 
Right  so  me  thinketh  by  your  chere. 
But,  sir,  oo  thing  wol  ye  here? 
Me  thinketh  in  gret  sorwe  I  yow  see. 
But  certes,  sire,  yif  that  ye 
Wolde  ought  discure  me  your  wo, 
I  wolde,  as  wis  God  helpe  me  so, 
Amende  hit,  yif  I  can  or  may. 
Ye  mowe  preve  hit  by  assay; 
For,  by  my  trouthe,  to  make  yow  hool 
I  wol  do  al  my  power  hool. 


2-559         THE  BOOK  OF  THE  DUCHESSE  15 

And  telleth  me  of  your  sorwes  smerte: 
Paraventure  hit  may  ese  your  herte, 
That  semeth  ful  seek  under  your  syde." 

With  that  he  loked  on  me  asyde, 
As  who  sayth,  "Nay,  that  wol  not  be." 
"Graunt  mercy,  goode  frend,"  quod  he, 
"I  thanke  thee  that  thou  woldest  so, 
But  hit  may  nevere  the  rather  be  do. 
No  man  may  my  sorwe  glade, 
That  maketh  my  hewe  to  falle  and  fade; 
For  I  am  sorwe  and  sorwe  is  I. 
Alias!  and  I  wol  telle  the  why. 
My  song  is  turned  to  pleyninge 
And  al  my  laughter  to  wepinge, 
My  glade  thoghtes  to  hevinesse; 
In  travaile  is  myn  ydelnesse. 
My  boldnesse  is  turned  to  shame, 
For  false  Fortune  hath  pleyd  a  game 
At  the  ches  with  me,  alias!  the  whyle! 
The  trayteresse  false  and  ful  of  gyle, 
That  al  behoteth  and  no-thing  halt, 
She  goth  upryght  and  yet  she  halt, 
That  baggeth  foule  and  loketh  faire, 
The  dispitouse  debonaire! 
Ful  many  oon  hath  she  thus  y-blent. 
She  is  pley  of  enchauntement, 
That  semeth  oon  and  is  nat  so. 
The  false  theef !  what  hath  she  do, 
Trowest  thou?    By  our  Lord,  I  wol  thee  seye. 
At  the  ches  with  me  she  gan  to  pleye; 
With  hir  false  draughtes  divers 
She  stal  on  me  and  took  my  fers. 
And  whan  I  saw  my  fers  aweye, 
Alas!  I  couthe  no  lenger  pleye, 
But  seyde,  'Farwel,  swete,  y-wis, 
And  farwel  al  that  evere  ther  is!' 
Therwith  Fortune  seyde  'Chek  heer!' 
And  'Maat!'  in  the  mid  point  of  the  chekker 

. 555-564; 597-602;  617-624;  647-660 


16  CHAUCER 


560-59? 


With  a  poun  erraunt,  alias! 
Ful  craftier  to  pley  she  was 
Than  Athalus,  that  made  the  game 
First  of  the  ches.    So  was  his  name. 
I  have  more  sorowe  than  Tantale." 

And  whan  I  herde  him  telle  this  tale 
Thus  pitously,  as  I  yow  telle, 
Unnethe  mighte  I  lenger  dwelle. 
Hit  did  myn  herte  so  moche  wo. 

"A!  good  sir!"  quod  I,  "say  not  so! 
Have  som  pite  on  your  nature 
That  formed  yow  to  creature. 
Remembre  yow  of  Socrates: 
For  he  ne  counted  nat  three  strees 
Of  noght  that  Fortune  coude  do." 

"Why  so? "  quod  he.    "Hit  is  nat  so! 
Thou  wost  ful  litel  what  thou  menest; 
I  have  lost  more  than  thou  wenest." 

"Lo,  sir,  how  that  may  be,"  quod  I, 
"Goode  sir,  tel  me  al  hoolly; 
In  what  wyse,  how,  why,  and  wherfore 
That  ye  have  thus  your  blisse  lore." 

"Blythly,"  quod  he.    "Com  sit  adoun. 
I  telle  thee  upon  a  condicioun 
That  thou  shalt  hoolly,  with  al  thy  wit, 
Do  thyn  entente  to  herkene  hit." 

"Yis,  sir."    "Swer  thy  trouthe  ther-to." 

"  Gladly."    " Do  than  holde  her-to." 

"I  shal  right  blythly,  so  God  me  save, 
Hoolly,  with  al  the  wit  I  have, 
Here  yow  as  wel  as  I  can." 

"A  Goddes  half!"  quod  he  and  began:— 
"Sire,"  quod  he,  "sith  first  I  couthe 
Have  any  maner  wit  fro  youthe, 
Or  kyndely  understonding 
To  comprehende  in  any  thing 
What  love  was,  in  myn  owne  wit, 
Dredeles  I  have  evere  yit 

Sk.  661-664;  709-719;  742-764 


598-635         THE  BOOK  OF  THE  DUCHESSE  17 

Be  tributary  and  yeve  rente 

To  Love  hoolly  with  good  entente, 

And  through  plesaunce  become  his  thral, 

With  good  wille,  body,  herte,  and  al. 

Al  this  I  putte  in  his  servage, 

As  to  my  lord,  and  did  homage. 

Hit  happed  that  I  cam  on  a  day 

Into  a  place  ther  that  I  say 

Trewly  the  f ayrest  companye 

Of  ladies  that  evere  man  with  ye 

Had  seen  togedres  in  oo  place. 

Shal  I  clepe  hit  hap  other  grace 

That  broghte  me  there?    Nay,  but  Fortune, 

That  is  to  lyen  ful  comune, 

The  false  trayteresse,  pervers, 

God  wolde  I  coude  clepe  hir  wers! 

For  now  she  worcheth  me  ful  wo, 

And  I  wol  telle  sone  why  so. 

"  Among  thise  ladies  thus  echoon, 
Sooth  to  seyen,  I  saw  oon 
That  was  lyk  noon  of  the  route. 
For  I  dar  swere,  withoute  doute, 
That  as  the  someres  sonne  bright 
Is  fairer,  clerer,  and  hath  more  light 
Than  any  other  planete  in  hevene, 
The  mone,  or  the  sterres  sevene, 
For  al  the  world,  so  hadde  she 
Surmounted  hem  alle  of  beaute, 
That  purely  tho  myn  owne  thoght 
Seyde  hit  were  bettre  serve  hir  for  noght 
Than  with  another  to  be  wel. 
And  hit  was  sooth,  for  everydel 
I  wil  anoon-right  telle  thee  why. 

"I  saw  hir  daunce  so  comlily, 
Carole  and  singe  so  swetely, 
Laughe  and  pleye  so  womanly, 
And  loke  so  debonairly, 
So  goodly  speke  and  so  frendly, 

Sk.  765-770;  805-826;  843-852 


18  CHAUCER 


636-673 


That  certes,  I  trow,  that  everemor 
Nas  seyn  so  blisf ul  a  tresor. 
For  every  heer  upon  hir  heed, 
Soth  to  seyn,  hit  was  not  reed, 
Ne  nouther  yelowe,  ne  broun  hit  nas: 
Me  thoghte  most  lyk  gold  hit  was. 
And  whiche  eyen  my  lady  hadde! 
Debonaire,  goode,  glade,  and  sadde, 
Simple,  of  good  mochel,  noght  to  wyde. 
Therto  hir  look  nas  not  a-syde, 
Ne  overthwert,  but  beset  so  wel, 
Hit  drew  and  took  up  everydel 
Alle  that  on  hir  gan  beholde. 
Hir  eyen  semed  anoon  she  wolde 
Have  mercy.    Fooles  wenden  so; 
But  hit  was  nevere  the  rather  do. 
Hit  nas  no  countrefeted  thing: 
It  was  hir  owne  pure  loking, 
That  the  goddesse,  Dame  Nature, 
Had  made  hem  opene  by  mesure 
And  close.    For  were  she  nevere  so  glad, 
Hir  loking  was  not  foly  sprad 
Ne  wildely,  thogh  that  she  pleyde; 
But  evere,  me  thoghte,  hir  eyen  seyde, 
'By  God,  my  wrathe  is  al  for-yive!' 
"Therwith  hir  liste  so  wel  to  live 
That  dulnesse  was  of  hir  a-drad. 
She  nas  to  sobre  ne  to  glad. 
In  alle  thinges  more  mesure 
Had  nevere,  I  trowe,  creature. 
But  many  oon  with  hir  look  she  herte; 
And  that  sat  hir  ful  lyte  at  herte; 
For  she  knew  no-thing  of  hir  thoght. 
But  whether  she  knew,  or  knew  it  noght, 
Algate  she  ne  roghte  of  hem  a  stree! 
To  gete  hir  love  no  ner  nas  he 
That  woned  at  home,  than  he  in  Inde: 
The  formest  was  alway  behinde. 

Sk.  853-890 


674-711         THE  BOOK  OF  THE  DUCHESSfi  19 

But  goode  folk,  over  al  other, 
She  loved  as  man  may  do  his  brother, 
Of  which  love  she  was  wonder  large 
In  skilful  places  that  bere  charge. 

"But  which  a  visage  had  she  ther-to! 
Alias!  myn  herte  is  wonder  wo 
That  I  ne  can  discryven  hit! 
Me  lakketh  bothe  English  and  wit 
For  to  undo  hit  at  the  fulle. 
And  eek  my  spirits  be  so  dulle 
So  greet  a  thing  for  to  devyse. 
I  have,  no  wit  that  can  suffyse 
To  comprehenden  hir  beaute. 
But  thus  moche  dar  I  seyn,  that  she 
Was  rody,  freshe,  and  lyvely  hewed, 
And  every  day  hir  beaute  newed. 
And  negh  hir  face  was  alder-best, 
For  certes,  Natur§  had  swich  lest 
To  make  that  faire,  that  trewly  she 
Was  hir  cheef  patron  of  beautee, 
And  cheef  ensample  of  al  hir  werk, 
And  moustre.    For  be  hit  nevere  so  derk 
Me  thinketh  I  see  hir  evere-mo. 
And  yet  more-over,  thogh  alle  tho 
That  evere  lived  were  now  a-lyve, 
Ne  sholde  have  founde  to  discryve 
In  al  hir  face  a  wikked  signe, 
For  hit  was  sad,  simple,  and  benigne. 

"And  which  a  goodly  softe  speche 
Hadde  that  swete,  my  lyves  leche! 
So  frendly,  and  so  wel  y-grounded, 
Up  al  resoun  so  wel  y-founded 
And  so  tretable  to  alle  gode, 
That  I  dar  swere  wel  by  the  rode, 
Of  eloquence  was  nevere  founde 
So  swete  a  sowninge  facounde, 
Ne  trewer  tonged,  ne  scorned  lasse, 
Ne  bet  coude.  hele:  that  by  the  masse 

Sk.  891-928 


20  CHAUCER 


712-749 


I  durste  swere,  thogh  the  pope  hit  songe, 

That  ther  was  nevere  yet  through  hir  tonge 

Man  ne  woman  gretly  harmed. 

As  for  hire  was  al  harm  hid; 

Ne  lasse  flatering  in  hir  word 

That  purely  hir  simple  record 

Was  founde  as  trewe  as  any  bond, 

Or  trouthe  of  any  mannes  hond. 

Ne  chide  she  coude  nevere  a  del, 

That  knoweth  al  the  world  ful  wel. 

"But  swich  a  fairnesse  of  a  nekke 
Had  that  swete,  that  boon  nor  brekke 
Nas  ther  non  sene  that  mis-sat. 
Hit  was  whyt,  smothe,  streght,  and  flat, 
Withouten  hole;  or  canel-boon 
As  by  seming  had  she  noon. 
Hir  throte,  as  I  have  now  memoire, 
Semed  a  round  tour  of  yvoire 
Of  good  gretnesse  and  noght  to  greet. 

"  And  gode  f aire  Whyt  she  heet, 
That  was  my  lady  name  right. 
She  was  bothe  fair  and  bright, 
She  hadde  not  hir  name  wrong. 
Right  faire  shuldres  and  body  long 
She  hadde,  and  armes,  every  lith 
Fattish,  flesshly,  not  greet  therwith. 
Therto  she  coude  so  wel  pleye, 
Whan  that  hir  liste,  that  I  dar  seye 
That  she  was  lyk  to  torche  bright, 
That  every  man  may  take  of  light 
Ynogh,  and  hit  hath  nevere  the  lesse 

"Of  manere  and  of  comlinesse 
Right  so  ferde  my  lady  dere. 
For  every  wight  of  hir  manere 
Might  cacche  ynogh,  if  that  he  wolde, 
If  he  had  eyen  hir  to  beholde. 
For  I  dar  swere  wel,  if  that  she 
Had  among  ten  thousand  be, 

Sk.  929-954;  961-972 


750-787         THE  BOOK  OF  THE  DUCHESSE  21 

She  wolde  have  be,  at  the  leste, 
A  cheef  mirour  of  al  the  feste, 
Thogh  they  had  stonden  in  a  rowe 
To  mennes  eyen  that  coude  have  knowe. 
For  wher-so  men  had  pleyd  or  waked, 
Me  thoghte  the  felawshipe  as  naked 
Withouten  hir,  that  I  saw  ones, 
As  a  coroune  withoute  stones. 
Trewly  she  was,  to  myn  ye, 
The  soleyn  fenix  of  Arabye, 
For  ther  liveth  nevere  but  oon. 
Ne  swich  as  she  ne  knew  I  noon. 

"To  speke  of  goodnesse,  trewly  she 
Had  as  moche  debonairte 
As  evere  had  Hester  in  the  Bible, 
And  more  if  more  were  possible. 
And  soth  to  seyne,  therewith-al 
She  had  a  wit  so  general, 
So  hool  enclyned  to  alle  gode, 
That  al  hir  wit  was  set,  by  the  rode, 
Withoute  malice  upon  gladnesse. 
And  thereto  I  saw  nevere  yet  a  lesse 
Harmful  than  she  was  in  doinge. 
I  sey  nat  that  she  ne  had  knowinge 
What  harm  was;  or  elles  she 
Had  coud  no  gode,  so  thinketh  me. 

"And  trewly,  for  to  speke  of  trouthe, 
But  she  had  had,  hit  had  be  routhe. 
Thereof  she  had  so  moche  hir  del — 
And  I  dar  seyn  and  swere  hit  wel — 
That  Trouthe  him-self,  over  al  and  al, 
Had  chose  his  maner  principal 
In  hir,  that  was  his  resting-place. 
Ther-to  she  hadde  the  moste  grace 
To  have  stedfast  perseveraunce, 
And  esy,  atempre  governaunce, 
That  evere  I  knew  or  wiste  yit: 
So  pure  suffraunt  was  hir  wit. 

Sk.  973-1010 


22  CHAUCER  788-825 

And  reson  gladly  she  understood; 
Hit  folowed  wel  she  coude  good. 
She  used  gladly  to  do  wel. 
These  were  hir  maners  every-del. 

"Therwith  she  loved  so  wel  right, 
She  wrong  do  wolde  to  no  wight. 
No  wight  might  do  hir  no  shame, 
She  loved  so  wel  hir  owne  name. 
Hir  luste  to  holde  no  wight  in  honde: 
Ne,  be  thou  siker,  she  nolde  fonde 
To  holde  no  wight  in  balaunce 
By  halfe  word  ne  by  countenaunce, 
But-if  men  wolde  upon  hir  lye; 
Ne  sende  men  in-to  Walakye, 
To  Pruyse  and  in-to  Tartarye, 
To  Alisaundre  ne  in-to  Turkye, 
And  bidde  him  faste  anoon  that  he 
Go  hoodless  in-to  the  drye  see 
And  come  hoom  by  the  Carrenar, 
And  seye,  '  Sir,  be  now  right  war 
That  I  may  of  yow  here  seyn 
Worship  or  that  ye  come  ageyn!' 
She  ne  used  no  suche  knakkes  smale. 

"But  wherfore  that  I  telle  my  tale? 
Right  on  this  same,  as  I  have  seyd. 
Was  hoolly  al  my  love  leyd. 
For  certes,  she  was,  that  swete  wyf , 
My  suffisaunce,  my  lust,  my  lyf, 
Myn  hap,  myn  hele,  and  al  my  blisse, 
My  worldes  welfare  and  my  lisse, 
And  I  hirs  hoolly,  everydel." 

"By  our  lord,"  quod  I,  "I  trowe  yow  wel! 
Hardely  your  love  was  wel  beset, 
I  not  how  ye  mighte  have  do  bet." 
"Bet?  Ne  no  wight  so  wel!"  quod  he. 
"I  trowe  hit,  sir,"  quod  I,  "parde!" 
"Nay,  leve  hit  wel!"  "Sir,  so  do  I. 
I  leve  yow  wel,  that  trewely 

Sk.  1011-1048 


826-863         THE  BOOK  OF  THE  DUCHESSE  23 

Yow  thoghte  that  she  was  the  beste, 
And  to  beholde  the  alderfaireste, 
Who  so  had  loked  her  with  your  eyen." 

"With  myn?  Nay,  alle  that  hir  seyen 
Seyde,  and  sworen  hit  was  so. 
And  thogh  they  ne  hadde,  I  wolde  tho 
Have  loved  best  my  lady  fre, 
Thogh  I  had  had  al  the  beautee 
That  ever  had  Alcipyades, 
And  al  the  strengthe  of  Ercules. 
For  wonder  fayn  I  wolde  hir  see: 
So  mochel  hit  amended  me 
That  whan  I  saw  hir  first  a-morwe 
I  was  warished  of  al  my  sorwe 
Of  al  day  after,  til  hit  were  eve. 
Me  thoghte  no-thing  mighte  me  greve, 
Were  my  sorwes  nevere  so  smerte. 
And  yit  she  sit  so  in  myn  herte 
That,  by  my  trouthe,  I  nolde  noght, 
For  al  this  world,  out  of  my  thogh t 
Leve  my  lady — no,  trewly!" 

"Now,  by  my  trouthe,  sir,"  quod  I, 
"Me  thinketh  ye  have  such  a  chaunce 
As  shrift  withoute  repentaunce." 

"Repentaunce!  Nay,  fy!"  quod  he. 
"  Shulde  I  now  repente  me 
To  love?  Nay,  certes,  than  were  I  wel 
Wers  than  was  Achitofel, 
Or  Anthenor,  so  have  I  loye, 
The  traytour  that  betraysed  Troye, 
Or  the  false  Genelon, 
He  that  purchased  the  treson 
Of  Rowland  and  of  Oliver. 
Nay,  whyl  I  am  a-lyve  heer 
I  nil  foryete  hir  nevere-mo." 

"Now,  goode  sire,"  quod  I  tho, 
"Ye  han  wel  told  me  her-before. 
It  is  no  nede  reherse  hit  more 

Sk.  1049-1058;  1101-1128 


24  CHAUCER  864-901 

How  ye  sawe  hir  first  and  where. 
But  wolde  ye  telle  me  the  manere, 
To  hir  which  was  your  firste  speche 
(Therof  I  wolde  yow  be-seche) 
And  how  she  knewe  first  your  thoght, 
Whether  ye  loved  hir  or  noght. 
And  telleth  me  eek  what  ye  have  lore; 
I  herde  yow  telle  her-before." 

"Ye,"  seyde  he,  "thou  nost  what  thou  menest. 
I  have  lost  more  than  thou  wenest." 

"What  los  is  that?"  quod  I  tho. 
"Nil  she  not  love  yow?  Is  it  so? 
Or  have  ye  oght  doon  amis 
That  she  hath  left  yow?  Is  hit  this? 
For  Goddes  love,  telle  me  al." 

" Before  God,"  quod  he,  "and  I  shal. 
I  saye  right  as  I  have  seyd. 
On  hir  was  al  my  love  leyd, 
And  yet  she  niste  hit  nevere  a  del 
Noght  longe  tyme,  leve  hit  wel! 
For  be  right  siker,  I  durste  noght 
For  al  this  world  telle  hir  my  thoght, 
Ne  I  wolde  have  wratthed  hir,  trewly. 
For  wostow  why?    She  was  lady 
Of  the  body:  she  had  the  herte, 
And  who  hath  that,  may  not  asterte. 

"But,  for  to  kepe  me  fro  ydelnesse, 
Trewly  I  did  my  besinesse 
To  make  songes  as  I  best  coude, 
And  of  te  tyme  I  song  hem  loude. 
I  thoughte  ones  I  wolde  fonde 
To  do  hir  knowe  and  understonde 
My  wo;  and  she  wel  understood 
That  I  ne  wilned  thing  but  good 
And  worship  and  to  kepe  hir  name 
Over  al  thing,  and  drede  hir  shame. 
And  was  so  besy  hir  to  serve, 
And  pite  were  I  shulde  sterve, 

Sk.  1129-1158;  1259-1266 


902-939         THE  BOOK  OF  THE  DUCHESSE  25 

Sith  that  I  wilned  noon  harm,  y-wis. 
So  whan  my  lady  knew  al  this, 
My  lady  yaf  me  al  hoolly 
The  noble  yifte  of  hir  mercy, 
Saving  hir  worship,  by  al  weyes. 
Dredles,  I  mene  noon  other  weyes. 
And  therwith  she  yaf  me  a  ring — 
I  trowe  hit  was  the  firste  thing. 
But  if  myn  herte  was  y-waxe 
Glad,  that  is  no  nede  to  axe! 
As  helpe  me  God,  I  was  as  blyve 
Reysed  as  fro  dethe  to  lyve: 
Of  alle  happes  the  alder-beste, 
The  gladdest  and  the  most  at  reste. 
For  trewely,  that  swete  wight, 
Whan  I  had  wrong  and  she  the  right, 
She  wolde  alwey  so  goodely 
For-yeve  me  so  debonairly. 
In  alle  my  you  the,  in  alle  chaunce, 
She  took  me  in  hir  governaunce. 

"Therwith  she  was  alway  so  trewe, 
Our  loye  was  ever  y-liche  newe. 
Our  hertes  wern  so  even  a  payre 
That  nevere  nas  that  oon  contrayre 
To  that  other,  for  no  wo. 
For  sothe,  y-liche  they  suffred  tho 

00  blisse  and  eek  oo  sorwe  bothe. 
Y-liche  they  were  bothe  gladde  and  wrothe; 
Al  was  us  oon,  withoute  wer. 

And  thus  we  lived  ful  many  a  yeer 
So  wel,  I  can  nat  telle  how." 

"Sire,"  quod  I,  "wher  is  she  now?  " 
"Now!"  quod  he,  and  stinte  anoon. 
Therwith  he  wex  as  deed  as  stoon, 
And  seyde,  "Alias!  that  I  was  bore! 
That  was  the  los  that  her-before 

1  tolde  thee  that  I  had  lorn. 
Bethenk  how  I  seyde  her-beforn, 

Sk.  1267-1304 


26  CHAUCER 


940-969 


'Thou  wost  ful  litel  what  thou  menest; 
I  hav§  lost  more  than  thou  wenest.' 
God  wot,  alias!  right  that  was  she!" 

"Alias!  sir,  how?    What  may  that  be? " 
"She  is  deed!"  "Nay!"  "  Yis,  by  my  trouthe!" 
"Is  that  your  los?    By  God,  hit  is  routhe!" 

And  with  that  word,  right  anoon, 
They  gan  to  strake  forth:  al  was  doon, 
For  that  tyme,  the  hert-hunting. 

With  that  me  thoghte,  that  this  king 
Gan  quickly  hoomward  for  to  ryde 
Unto  a  place,  was  ther  besyde, 
Which  was  from  us  but  a  lyte, 
A  long  castel  with  walles  whyte, 
By  Seynte  lohan!  on  a  riche  hil, 
As  me  mette,  but  thus  it  fil. 

Right  thus  me  mette,  as  I  yow  telle, 
That  in  the  castel  ther  was  a  belle, 
As  hit  had  smiten  houres  twelve. — 
Therwith  I  awook  my-selve, 
And  fond  me  lying  in  my  bed. 
And  the  book  that  I  had  red, 
Of  Alcyone  and  Seys  the  king 
And  of  the  goddes  of  sleping, 
I  fond  it  in  myn  hond  ful  even. 

Thoghte  I,  "This  is  so  queynte  a  sweven 
That  I  wol,  by  processe  of  tyme, 
Fonde  to  putte  this  sweven  in  ryme 
As  I  can  best,  and  that  anoon." 
This  was  my  sweven.    Now  hit  is  doon. 

Explicit  the  Book  of  the  Duchesse. 

Sk.  1305-1334 


THE  HOUS  OF  FAME 

BOOK  I 

God  turne  us  every  dreem  to  gode! 

For  hit  is  wonder,  by  the  rode, 

To  my  wit,  what  causeth  swevenes 

Either  on  morwes  or  on  evenes; 

And  why  the  effect  folweth  of  somme, 

And  of  somme  hit  shal  nevere  come; 

Why  that  is  an  avisioun, 

And  why  this  a  revelacioun; 

Why  this  a  dreem,  why  that  a  sweven, 

And  nat  to  every  man  liche  even; 

Why  this  a  fantome,  why  these  oracles, 

I  noot;  but  who-so  of  these  miracles 

The  causes  knoweth  bet  than  I, 

Devyne  he;  for  I  certeinly 

Ne  can  hem  noght,  ne  nevere  thinke 

To  besily  my  wit  to  swinke 

To  knowe  of  hir  signifiaunce 

The  gendres,  neither  the  distaunce 

Of  tymes  of  hem,  ne  the  causes 

For- why  this  is  more  than  that  cause  is — 

As  if  folkes  complexiouns 

Make  hem  dreme  of  reflexiouns, 

Or  elles  thus,  as  other  sayn, 

For  to  greet  feblenesse  of  her  brayn, 

By  abstinence  or  by  seeknesse, 

Prison,  stewe,  or  greet  distresse, 

Or  elles  by  disordinaunce 

Of  naturel  acustomaunce, 

That  som  man  is  to  curious 

In  studie,  or  melancolious, 

Or  thus,  so  inly  ful  of  drede 

That  no  man  may  him  bote  bede; 

Sk.  1-32 


28  CHAUCER  33- « 

Or  elles,  that  devocioun 

Of  somme,  and  contemplacioun 

Cause th  swiche  dremes  ofte; 

Or  that  the  cruel  lyf  unsofte 

Which  these  like  lovers  leden 

That  hopen  over  muche  or  dreden 

That  purely  hir  impressiouns 

Cause  th  hem  avisiouns; 

Or  if  that  spirits  have  the  might 

To  make  folk  to  dreme  a-night, 

Or  if  the  soule,  of  propre  kinde, 

Be  so  parfit  as  men  finde 

That  hit  forwot  that  is  to  come, 

And  that  hit  warneth  alle  and  somme 

Of  everich  of  hir  aventures 

By  avisiouns  or  by  figures, 

But  that  our  flesh  ne  hath  no  might 

To  understonden  hit  aright, 

For  hit  is  warned  to  derkly — 

But  why  the  cause  is,  noght  wot  I. 

Wei  worthe  of  this  thing  grete  clerkes, 

That  trete  of  this  and  other  werkes; 

For  I  of  noon  opinioun 

Nil  as  now  make  mencioun, 

But  only  that  the  holy  rode 

Turne  us  every  dreem  to  gode1 

For  nevere  sith  that  I  was  bora, 

Ne  no  man  elles  me  biforn 

Mette,  I  trowe  stedfastly, 

So  wonderful  a  dreem  as  I 

The  ten  the  day  did  of  Decembre, 

The  which,  as  I  can  now  remembre, 

I  wol  yow  tellen  every  del. 

The  Invocation 

But  at  my  ginning,  trusteth  wel, 
I  wol  make  invocacioun 
With  special  devocioun 

Sk.33-6» 


69-106  THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  29 

Unto  the  god  of  sleep  anoon, 

That  dwelleth  in  a  cave  of  stoon 

Upon  a  streem  that  comth  fro  Lete, 

That  is  a  flood  of  helle  unswete. 

Besyde  a  folk  men  clep§  Cimerie 

Ther  slepeth  ay  this  god  unmerie 

With  his  slepy  thousand  sones 

That  alway  for  to  slepe  hir  wone  is, 

And  to  this  god  that  I  of  rede, 

Preye  I  that  he  wol  me  spede 

My  sweven  for  to  telle  aright, 

If  every  dreem  stonde  in  his  might. 

And  He,  that  mover  is  of  al 

That  is  and  was  and  evere  shal, 

So  yive  hem  loye  that  hit  here 

Of  alle  that  they  drem§  to-yere, 

And  for  to  stonden  alle  in  grace 

Of  hir  loves,  or  in  what  place 

That  hem  wer  levest  for  to  stonde, 

And  shelde  hem  fro  poverte  and  shonde; 

And  fro  unhappe  and  ech  disese, 

And  sende  hem  al  that  may  hem  plese, 

That  take  hit  wel  and  scorne  hit  noght, 

Ne  hit  misdemen  in  her  thoght 

Through  malicious  entencioun. 

And  who-so  through  presumpcioun, 

Or  hate  or  scorn  or  through  envye, 

Dispyt,  or  lape,  or  vilanye, 

Misde.  AC  hit,  preye  I  lesus  God 

That — dreme  he  barfoot,  dreme  he  shod — 

That  every  harm  that  any  man 

Hath  had  sith  the  world  began 

Befalle  him.  thereof  or  he  sterve, 

And  graunte  he  mote  hit  ful  deserve, 

Lo!  with  swich  a  conclusioun 

As  had  of  his  avisioun 

Cresus,  that  was  king  of  Lyde, 

That  high  upon  a  gebet  dyde! 

Sk.  69-106 


30  CHAUCER  107-142 

This  prayer  shal  he  have  of  me; 
I  am  no  bet  in  charite! 
Now  herkneth,  as  I  have  you  seyd, 
What  that  I  mette,  or  I  abreyd. 

The  Dream 

Of  Decembre  the  tenthe  day 
Whan  hit  was  night  to  slepe  I  lay 
Right  ther  as  I  was  wont  to  done, 
And  fil  on  slepe  wonder  sone 
As  he  that  wery  was  for-go 
On  pilgrimage  myles  two 
To  the  corseynt  Leonard 
To  make  lythe  of  that  was  hard. 

But  as  I  sleep,  me  mette  I  was 
Within  a  temple  y-mad  of  glas, 
In  which  ther  were  mo  images 
Of  gold,  stonding  in  sondry  stages, 
And  mo  riche  tabernacles, 
And  with  perre  mo  pinacles, 
And  mo  curious  portreytures, 
And  queynte  maner  of  figures 
Of  olde  werk  then  I  saw  evere. 
For  certeynly  I  niste  nevere 
Wher  that  I  was,  but  wel  wiste  I 
Hit  was  of  Venus  redely 
The  temple;  for  in  portreyture 
I  saw  anoon-right  hir  figure 
Naked  fleting  in  a  see, 
And  also  on  hir  heed,  parde, 
Hir  rose-garlond  whyt  and  reed, 
And  hir  comb  to  kembe  hir  heed, 
Hir  dowves,  and  Daun  Cupido, 
Hir  blinde  sone,  and  Vulcano, 
That  in  his  face  was  ful  broun. 

But  as  I  romed  up  and  doun, 
I  fond  that  on  a  wal  ther  was 
Thus  writen  on  a  table  of  bras: 

Sk. 107-142 


143-180 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  31 


"I  wol  now  singe,  if  that  I  can, 
The  armes  and  also  the  man, 
That  first  cam  through  his  destinee, 
Fugitif  of  Troye  contree, 
In  Itaile  with  moche  pyne 
Unto  the  strondes  of  Lavyne." 
And  tho  began  the  story  anoon, 
As  I  shal  telle  yow  echoon. 

First  saw  I  the  destruccioun 
Of  Troye  through  the  Greek  Sinoun, 
With  his  false  forsweringe, 
And  his  chere  and  his  lesinge, 
Made  the  hors  broght  into  Troye, 
Thorgh  which  Troyens  loste  al  hir  loye. 
And  after  this  was  grave,  alias! 
How  Ilioun  assailed  was 
And  wonne,  and  King  Priam  y-slain, 
And  Polites  his  sone,  certayn, 
Dispitously  of  Dan  Pirrus. 

And  next  that  saw  I  how  Venus, 
Whan  that  she  saw  the  castel  brende, 
Doun  fro  the  hevene  gan  descende 
And  bad  hir  sone  Eneas  flee; 
And  how  he  fledde,  and  how  that  he 
Escaped  was  from  al  the  pres, 
And  took  his  fader,  Anchises, 
And  bar  him  on  his  bak  away, 
Crying,  "Alias,  and  welaway!" 
Ther  saw  I  graven  eek  how  he, 
His  fader  eek  and  his  meynee, 
With  his  shippes  gan  to  sayle 
Toward  the  contree  of  Itaile. 
Ther  saw  I  swich  tempest  aryse 
That  every  herte  mighte  agryse 
To  see  hit  peynted  on  the  wal. 
Ther  saw  I  graven  eek  withal, 
Venus,  how  ye,  my  lady  dere, 
Weping  with  ful  woful  chere, 

Sk.  143-170;  193-196;  209-214 


32  CHAUCER  181-213 

Prayen  lupiter  an  hye 

To  save  and  kepe  that  navye 

Of  the  Troyan  Eneas 

Sith  that  he  hir  sone  was. 

Ther  saw  I  loves  Venus  kisse 

And  graunted  of  the  tempest  lisse. 

Ther  saw  I  how  the  tempest  stente, 

And  how  with  alle  pyne  he  wente 

And  prevely  took  arrivage 

In  the  contree  of  Cartage. 

Ther  saw  I  grave  how  Eneas 

Tolde  Dido  every  cas 

That  him  was  tid  upon  the  see 

And  after  grave  was  how  she 

Made  of  him,  shortly,  at  oo  word, 

Hir  lyf,  hir  love,  hir  lust,  hir  lord: 

Lo,  how  a  woman  doth  amis 

To  love  him  that  unknowen  is! 

But  let  us  speke  of  Eneas, 
How  he  betrayed  hir,  alias! 
And  lefte  hir  ful  unkindely. 
So  whan  she  saw  al-utterly 
That  he  wolde  hir  of  trouthe  faile, 
And  wende  fro  hir  to  Itaile, 
She  gan  to  wringe  hir  hondes  two. 
"Alias!"  quod  she,  "What  me  is  wo!" 

Tho  saw  I  grave  al  tharivaile 
That  Eneas  had  in  Itaile, 
And  with  King  Latine  his  tretee, 
And  alle  the  batailles  that  he 
Was  at  himself  and  eek  his  knightes 
Or  he  had  al  y-wonne  his  rightes, 
And  how  he  Turnus  refte  his  lyf 
And  wan  Lavyna  to  his  wyf , 
And  al  the  mervelous  signals 
Of  the  goddes  celestials, 
How,  maugre  luno,  Eneas, 
For  al  hir  sleigh te  and  hir  compas, 

Sk.  215-224;  253-258;  269-270;  293-300;  451-462 


2i9-256  THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  33 

Acheved  al  his  aventure, 

For  lupiter  took  of  him  cure 

At  the  prayere  of  Venus: 

The  which  I  preye  alway  save  us, 

And  us  ay  of  our  sorwes  lighte! 

Whan  I  had  seyen  al  this  sighte 
In  this  noble  temple  thus, 
"A,  Lord!"  thoughte  I,  "that  madest  us, 
Yet  saw  I  nevere  swich  noblesse 
Of  images  ne  swich  richesse 
As  I  saw  graven  in  this  chirche; 
But  not  woot  I  who  did  hem  wirche, 
Ne  wher  I  am,  ne  in  what  contree. 
But  now  wol  I  go  oute  and  see 
Right  at  the  wiket  if  I  can 
See  o-wher  stering  any  man 
That  may  me  telle  wher  I  am." 

Whan  I  out  at  the  dores  cam, 
I  faste  aboute  me  beheld. 
Then  saw  I  but  a  large  feld 
As  fer  as  that  I  mighte  see, 
Withouten  toun,  or  hous,  or  tree, 
Or  bush,  or  gras,  or  ered  lond; 
For  al  the  feld  nas  but  of  sond 
As  smal  as  man  may  see  yet  lye 
In  the  desert  of  Libye. 
Ne  I  no  maner  creature 
That  is  y-formed  by  nature 
Ne  saw  I  me  to  rede  or  wisse. 
"O  Crist,"  thoughte  I,  "that  art  in  blisse, 
Fro  fantome  and  illusioun 
Me  save!"  and  with  devocioun 
Myn  yen  to  the  hevene  I  caste. 

Tho  was  I  war,  lo!  at  the  laste, 
That  faste  by  the  sonne,  as  hye 
As  kenne  mighte  I  with  myn  ye, 
Me  thoughte  I  saw  an  egle  sore, 
But  that  hit  semed  moche  more 

Sk. 463-500 


34  CHAUCER  257-284 

Then  I  had  any  egle  seyn. 
But  this  as  sooth  as  deeth,  certeyn, 
Hit  was  of  gold  and  shoon  so  brighte 
That  nevere  sawe  men  such  a  sighte 
But  if  the  hevene  had  y-wonne 
Al  newe  of  gold  another  sonne. 
So  shoon  the  egles  fethres  brighte, 
And  somewhat  dounward  gan  hit  lighte. 

Explicit  liber  primus. 


BOOK  II 
Incipit  liber  secundus. 

Proem 

Now  herkneth,  every  maner  man 
That  English  understonde  can, 
And  listeth  of  my  dreem  to  lere: 
For  now  at  erste  shul  ye  here 
So  selly  an  avisioun 
That  Isaye  ne  Scipioun 
Ne  King  Nabugodonosor, 
Pharo,  Turnus,  ne  Eleanor, 
Ne  mette  swich  a  dreem  as  this! 
Now  faire  blisful,  O  Cipris, 
So  be  my  favour  at  this  tyme! 
And  ye  me  to  endyte  and  ryme 
Helpeth  that  on  Parnaso  dwelle 
By  Elicon  the  clere  welle. 
O  Thought,  that  wroot  al  that  I  mette, 
And  in  the  tresorie  hit  shette 
Of  my  brayn!  now  shal  men  see 
If  any  vertu  in  thee  be 
To  tellen  al  my  dreem  aright. 
Now  kyth  thyn  engyn  and  might. 

Sk.  501-528 


285-319  THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  35 


The  Dream, 

This  egle,  of  which  I  have  yow  told, 
That  shoon  with  fethres  as  of  gold, 
Which  that  so  hye  gan  to  sore, 
I  gan  beholde  more  and  more, 
To  see  hir  beautee  and  the  wonder. 
But  nevere  was  ther  dint  of  thonder, 
Ne  that  thing  that  men  calle  foudre, 
That  smoot  somtyme  a  tour  to  poudre 
And  in  his  swifte  coming  brende, 
That  so  swythe  gan  descende 
As  this  foul  whan  hit  beheld 
That  I  a-roume  was  in  the  feld; 
And  with  his  grimme  pawes  stronge 
Within  his  sharpe  nayles  longe 
Me,  fleing,  at  a  swap  he  hente, 
And  with  his  sours  agayn  up  wente 
Me  carying  in  his  clawes  starke 
As  lightly  as  I  were  a  larke, — 
How  high,  I  can  not  telle  yow, 
For  I  cam  up,  I  niste  how. 
For  so  astonied  and  a-sweved 
Was  every  vertu  in  my  heved, 
What  with  his  sours  and  with  my  drede, 
That  al  my  feling  gan  to  dede, 
For-why  hit  was  to  greet  affray. 

Thus  I  longe  in  his  clawes  lay 
Til  at  the  laste  he  to  me  spak 
In  mannes  vois  and  seyde,  "  Awak! 
And  be  not  so  a-gast,  for  shame!" 
And  called  me  tho  by  my  name. 
And  for  I  sholde  the  bet  abreyde, 
Me  mette  "Awak!"  to  me  he  seyde 
Right  in  the  same  vois  and  stevene 
That  useth  oon  I  coude  nevene; 
And  with  that  vois,  soth  for  to  sayn, 

Sk.  529-563 


36  CHAUCER  320-357 

My  minde  cam  to  me  agayn, 
For  hit  was  goodly  seyd  to  me, 
So  nas  hit  nevere  wont  to  be. 

And  herwithal  I  gan  to  stere 
And  he  me  in  his  feet  to  here 
Til  that  he  felte  that  I  hadde  hete 
And  felte  eek  tho  myn  herte  bete. 
And  tho  gan  he  me  to  disporte 
And  with  wordes  to  comforte, 
And  sayde  twyes,  "Seynte  Marie! 
Thou  are  noyous  for  to  carie, 
And  nothing  nedeth  hit,  parde! 
For  al-so  wis  God  helpe  me 
As  thou  non  harm  shalt  have  of  this; 
And  this  cas  that  betid  thee  is 
Is  for  thy  lore  and  for  thy  prow. 
Let  see!  darst  thou  yet  loke  now? 
Be  ful  assured,  boldely, — 
I  am  thy  frend."    And  therwith  I 
Gan  for  to  wondren  in  my  minde. 
"O  God,"  thoughte  I,  "that  madest  kinde, 
Shal  I  non  other  weyes  dye? 
Wher  loves  wol  me  stellifye 
Or  what  thing  may  this  signifye? 
I  neither  am  Enok,  ne  Elye, 
Ne  Romulus,  ne  Ganymede 
That  was  y-bore  up,  as  men  rede, 
To  hevene  with  Dan  lupiter 
And  maad  the  goddes  boteler." 

Lo!  this  was  tho  my  fantasye! 
But  he  that  bar  me  gan  espye 
That  I  so  thoghte,  and  seyde  this: 
"Thou  demest  of  thy-self  amis; 
For  loves  is  not  ther-aboute 
(I  dar  wel  putte  thee  out  of  doute) 
To  make  of  thee  as  yet  a  sterre. 
But  er  I  bere  thee  moche  ferre, 
I  wol  thee  telle  what  I  am 

Sk. 564-601 


558-395  THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  37 

And  whider  thou  shall  and  why  I  cam 

To  done  this,  so  that  thou  take 

Good  herte  and  not  for  fere  quake." 

"Gladly,"  quod  I.    "Now  wel,"  quod  he, 

"First  I  that  in  my  feet  have  thee, 

Of  which  thou  hast  a  fere  and  wonder, 

Am  dwelling  with  the  god  of  thonder, 

Which  that  men  callen  lupiter, 

That  dooth  me  flee  ful  of te  fer 

To  done  al  his  comaundement. 

And  for  this  cause  he  hath  me  sent 

To  thee:  now  herke,  by  thy  trouthe! — 

Certeyn,  he  hath  of  thee  routhe 

That  thou  so  longe  trewely 

Hast  served  so  ententifly 

His  blinde  nevew  Cupido, 

And  faire  Venus  goddesse  also, 

Withoute  guerdoun  ever  yit, 

And  nevertheles  hast  set  thy  wit — 

Although  that  in  thy  heed  ful  lyte  is — 

To  make  bokes,  songes,  dytees, 

In  ryme  or  elles  in  cadence, 

As  thou  best  canst,  in  reverence 

Of  Love  and  of  his  servants  eke 

That  have  his  servise  soght  and  seke; 

And  peynest  thee  to  preyse  his  art, 

Althogh  thou  haddest  nevere  part: 

Wherfore,  also  God  me  blesse, 

loves  halt  hit  greet  humblesse 

And  vertu  eek  that  thou  wolt  make 

A-night  ful  ofte  thyn  heed  to  ake, 

In  thy  studie  so  thou  wrytest 

And  evere-mo  of  love  endytest 

In  honour  of  him  and  preysinges, 

And  in  his  folkes  furtheringes, 

And  in  hir  matere  al  devysest 

And  noght  him  nor  his  folk  despysest, 

Although  thou  mayst  go  in  the  daunce 

Sk.  602-639 


38  CHAUCER 


396-433 


Of  hem  that  him  list  not  avaunce. 

"Wherfore,  as  I  seyde,  y-wis, 
lupiter  considereth  this 
And  also,  beau  sir,  other  thinges: 
That  is,  that  thou  hast  no  tydinges 
Of  Loves  folk,  if  they  be  glade, 
Ne  of  noght  elles  that  God  made; 
And  noght  only  fro  fer  contree 
That  ther  no  tydinge  comth  to  thee, 
But  of  thy  verray  neyghebores, 
That  dwellen  almost  at  thy  dores, 
Thou  herest  neither  that  ne  this. 
For  whan  thy  labour  doon  al  is, 
And  hast  y-maad  thy  rekeninges, 
In  stede  of  reste  and  newe  thinges 
Thou  gost  hoom  to  thy  hous  anoon, 
And  also  domb  as  any  stoon 
Thou  sittest  at  another  book 
Til  fully  daswed  is  thy  look, 
And  livest  thus  as  an  hermyte, 
Although  thyn  abstinence  is  lyte. 

"And  therfore  loves  through  his  grace 
Wol  that  I  bere  thee  to  a  place 
Which  that  hight  THE  HOUS  OF  FAME, 
To  do  thee  som  disport  and  game 
In  som  recompensacioun 
Of  labour  and  devocioun 
That  thou  hast  had,  lo!  causeles, 
To  Cupido,  the  reccheles! 
And  thus  this  god  thorgh  his  meryte 
Wol  with  som  maner  thing  thee  quyte, 
So  that  thou  wolt  be  of  good  chere. 
For  truste  wel  that  thou  shalt  here, 
When  we  be  comen  ther  I  seye, 
Mo  wonder  thinges,  dar  I  leye, 
And  of  Loves  folk  mo  tydinges, 
Bothe  soth-sawes  and  lesinges; 
And  mo  loves  newe  begonne, 

Sk.  640-677 


434-471  THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  39 

And  longe  y-served  loves  wonne, 

And  mo  loves  casuelly 

That  ben  betid,  no  man  wot  why, 

But  as  a  blind  man  stert  an  hare; 

And  more  lolytee  and  fare, 

Whyl  that  they  finde  love  of  stele, 

As  thinketh  hem,  and  over-al  wele; 

Mo  discords  and  mo  lelousyes, 

Mo  murmurs  and  mo  novelryes, 

And  mo  dissimulaciouns 

And  feyned  reparaciouns; 

And  mo  berdes  in  two  houres 

Withoute  rasour  or  sisoures 

Y-maad,  then  greynes  be  of  sondes; 

And  eke  mo  holding  in  hondes; 

And  also  mo  renovelaunces 

Of  olde  forleten  aqueyntaunces; 

Mo  love-dayes  and  acordes 

Then  on  instruments  ben  cordes; 

And  eek  of  loves  mo  eschaunges 

Than  evere  cornes  were  in  graunges: — 

Unethe  maistow  trowen  this?  " 

Quod  he,  "No,  helpe  me  God  so  wis!" — 

Quod  I.  "No?  Why?"  quod  he.    "For  hit 

Were  impossible  to  my  wit, 

Though  that  Fame  had  al  the  pyes 

In  al  a  realme,  and  al  the  spyes, 

How  that  yet  she  shulde  here  al  this 

Or  they  espye  hit."    "O  yis,  yis!" 

Quod  he  to  me,  "  that  can  I  preve 

By  resoun  worthy  for  to  leve, 

So  that  thou  yeve  thyn  advertence 

To  understonde  my  sentence. 

"First  shalt  thou  heren  wher  she  dwelleth: 
And  so  thyn  owne  book  hit  telleth, 
Hir  paleys  stant,  as  I  shal  seye, 
Right  even  in  middes  of  the  weye 
Betwixen  hevene,  erthe,  and  see, 

Sk.  678-715 


40  CHAUCER 

That  what-so-evere  in  al  these  three 
Is  spoken  in  privee  or  apert, 
The  way  therto  is  so  overt 
And  stant  eek  in  so  luste  a  place 
That  every  soun  mot  to  hit  pace, 
Or  what  so  comth  fro  any  tonge, 
Be  hit  rouned,  red,  or  songe, 
Or  spoke  in  seurtee  or  drede, 
Certein,  hit  moste  thider  nede. 

"Now  herkne  wel,  for- why  I  wil 
Tellen  thee  a  propre  skil 
And  worthy  demonstracioun 
In  myn  imaginacioun. 

"  Geffrey,  thou  wost  right  wel  this, 
That  every  kindly  thing  that  is 
Hath  a  kindly  stede  ther  he 
May  best  in  hit  conserved  be, 
Unto  which  place  every  thing, 
Through  his  kindly  enclyning, 
Moveth  for  to  come  to 
Whan  that  hit  is  awey  therfro. 
As  thus:  lo,  thou  mayst  al  day  see 
That  any  thing  that  hevy  be, 
As  stoon  or  leed  or  thing  of  wighte, 
And  ber  hit  nevere  so  hye  on  highte, 
Lat  go  thyn  hand,  hit  falleth  doun. 
Right  so  seye  I  by  fyre  or  soun 
Or  smoke  or  other  thinges  lighte, 
Alwey  they  seke  upward  on  highte; 
Whyl  ech  of  hem  is  at  his  large, 
Light  thing  up,  and  dounward  charge. 

"And  for  this  cause  mayst  thou  see 
That  every  river  to  the  see 
Enclyned  is  to  go  by  kinde, 
And  by  these  skilles,  as  I  finde, 
Hath  fish  dwelling  in  flood  and  see, 
And  trees  eek  in  erthe  be. 
Thus  every  thing  by  this  resoun 


sio-547  THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  41 

Hath  his  propre  mansioun, 

To  which  hit  seketh  to  repaire 

As  ther  hit  shulde  not  apaire. 

Lo,  this  sentence  is  knowen  couth 

Of  every  philosophres  mouth, 

As  Aristotle  and  Dan  Platon 

And  other  clerkes  many  oon. 

And  to  confirme  my  resoun, 

Thou  wost  wel  this,  that  speche  is  soun, 

Or  elles  no  man  mighte  hit  here. 

Now  herke  what  I  wol  thee  lere. 

"Soun  is  noght  but  air  y-broken; 
And  every  speche  that  is  spoken, 
Loud  or  privee,  foul  or  fair, 
In  his  substaunce  is  but  air. 
For  as  flaumbe  is  but  lighted  smoke, 
Right  so  soun  is  air  y-broke. 
But  this  may  be  in  many  wyse, 
Of  which  I  wil  thee  two  devyse, 
As  soun  that  comth  of  pype  or  harpe. 
For  whan  a  pype  is  blowen  sharpe, 
The  air  is  twist  with  violence 
And  rent:  lo,  this  is  my  sentence; 
Eek,  whan  men  harpe-stringes  smyte, 
Whether  hit  be  moche  or  lyte, 
Lo,  with  the  strook  the  air  to-breketh. 
Right  so  hit  breketh  whan  men  speketh: 
Thus  wost  thou  wel  what  thing  is  speche. 

"Now  hennesforth  I  wol  thee  teche 
How  every  speche  or  noise  or  soun 
Through  his  multiplicacioun, 
Thogh  hit  were  pyped  of  a  mous, 
Moot  nede  come  to  Fames  Hous. 
I  preve  hit  thus — tak  hede  now — 
By  experience:  for  if  that  thou 
Thro  we  on  water  now  a  stoon, 
Wel  wost  thou  hit  wol  make  anoon 
A  litel  roundel  as  a  cercle, 

Sk. 754-79L 


42  CHAUCER 


548-585 


Para  venture  brood  as  a  covercle; 

And  right  anoon  thou  shalt  see  weel, 

That  wheel  wol  cause  another  wheel, 

And  that  the  thridde  and  so  forth,  brother, 

And  every  cercle  causing  other, 

Wyder  than  himselve  was. 

And  thus,  fro  roundel  to  compas, 

Ech  aboute  other  goinge, 

Caused  of  othres  steringe, 

And  multiplying  evere-mo 

Til  that  hit  be  so  fer  y-go 

That  hit  at  bothe  brinkes  be. 

Al-thogh  thou  mowe  hit  not  y-see 

Above,  hit  goth  yet  alway  under, 

Although  thou  thenke  hit  a  gret  wonder. 

And  who-so  seith  of  trouthe  I  varie, 

Bid  him  proven  the  contrarie. 

And  right  thus  every  word,  y-wis, 

That  loude  or  privee  spoken  is, 

Moveth  first  an  air  aboute, 

And  of  this  moving,  out  of  doute, 

Another  air  anoon  is  meved. 

As  I  have  of  the  water  preved 

That  every  cercle  causeth  other, 

Right  so  of  air,  my  leve  brother: 

Everich  air  in  other  stereth 

More  and  more,  and  speche  up  bereth, 

Or  vois  or  noise  or  word  or  soun, 

Ay  through  multiplicacioun, 

Til  hit  be  atte  Hous  of  Fame:— 

Tak  hit  in  ernest  or  in  game. 

"Now  have  I  told,  if  thou  have  minde, 
How  speche  or  soun,  of  pure  kinde, 
Enclyned  is  upward  to  meve. 
This,  mayst  thou  fele,  wel  I  preve. 
And  that  same  place,  y-wis, 
That  every  thing  enclyned  to  is, 
Hath  his  kindeliche  stede: 

Sk.  792-829 


586-623 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  43 


That  sheweth  hit,  withouten  drede, 
That  kindely  the  mansioun 
Of  every  speche,  of  every  soun, 
Be  hit  either  foul  or  fair, 
Hath  his  kinde  place  in  air. 
And  sin  that  every  thing  that  is 
Out  of  his  kinde  place,  y-wis, 
Moveth  thider  for  to  go 
If  hit  a-weye  be  therfro, 
As  I  before  have  preved  thee, 
Hit  seweth,  every  soun,  pardee, 
Moveth  kindely  to  pace 
Al  up  into  his  kindely  place. 
And  this  place  of  which  I  telle, 
Ther  as  Fame  list  to  dwelle, 
Is  set  amiddes  of  these  three, 
Hevene,  erthe,  and  eek  the  see, 
As  most  conservatif  the  soun. 
Than  is  this  the  conclusioun, 
That  every  speche  of  every  man, 
As  I  thee  telle  first  began, 
Moveth  up  on  high  to  pace 
Kindely  to  Fames  place. 

"Telle  me  this  feithfully:— 
Have  I  not  preved  thus  simply, 
Withouten  any  subtiltee 
Of  speche,  or  gret  prolixitee 
Of  termes  of  philosophye, 
Of  figures  of  poetrye, 
Or  colours  of  rethoryke? 
Pardee,  hit  oghte  thee  to  lyke; 
For  hard  langage  and  hard  matere 
Is  encombrous  for  to  here 
At  ones.    Wost  thou  not  wel  this?  " 
And  I  answerde,  and  seyde,  "  Yis." 

"A  ha!"  quod  he,  "lo,  so  I  can, 
Lewedly  to  a  lewed  man 
Speke,  and  shewe  him  swiche  skiles 

Sk.  830-867 


44  CHAUCER 

That  he  may  shake  hem  by  the  biles, 

So  palpable  they  shulden  be. 

But  telle  me  this,  now  pray  I  thee, 

How  thinkth  thee  my  conclusioun? " 

Quod  he.     "A  good  persuasioun," 

Quod  I,  "hit  is,  and  lyk  to  be 

Right  so  as  thou  hast  preved  me." 

"By  God,"  quod  he,  "and  as  I  leve, 

Thou  shalt  have  yit,  or  hit  be  eve, 

Of  every  word  of  this  sentence 

A  preve,  by  experience, 

And  with  thyn  eres  heren  wel 

Top  and  tail  and  everydel, 

That  every  word  that  spoken  is 

Comth  into  Fames  Hous,  y-wis, 

As  I  have  seyd:  what  wilt  thou  more?" 

And  with  this  word  upper  to  sore 

He  gan,  and  seyde,  "By  Seynt  lame! 

Now  wil  we  speken  al  of  game." — 

"How  farest  thou?"  quod  he  to  me. 
"Wel,"  quod  I.    "Now  see,"  quod  he, 
"By  thy  trouthe,  yond  adoun, 
Wher  that  thou  knowest  any  toun 
Or  hous  or  any  other  thing. 
And  whan  thou  hast  of  ought  knowing 
Loke  that  thou  warne  me, 
And  I  anoon  shal  telle  thee 
How  fer  that  thou  art  now  therfro." 

And  I  adoun  gan  loken  tho 
And  beheld  feldes  and  plaines, 
And  now  hilles  and  now  mountaines, 
Now  valeys,  and  now  forestes, 
And  now,  unethes,  grete  bestes, 
Now  riveres,  now  citees, 
Now  tounes,  and  now  grete  trees, 
Now  shippes  sailing  in  the  see. 

But  thus  sone  in  a  whyle  he 
Was  flowen  fro  the  grounde  so  hye 

Sk.  868-905 


662-699  THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  45 

That  al  the  world,  as  to  myn  ye, 

No  more  semed  than  a  prikke, 

Or  elles  was  the  air  so  thikke 

That  I  ne  mighte  not  discerne. 

With  that  he  spak  to  me  as  yerne, 

And  seyde,  "Seestow  any  toun 

Or  ought  thou  knowest  yonder  doun?  " 

I  seyde,  "Nay."    "No  wonder  nis," 
Quod  he,  "for  half  so  high  as  this 
Nas  Alexander  Macedo; 
Ne  the  king,  Dan  Scipio, 
That  saw  in  dreem,  at  point  devys, 
Helle  and  erthe  and  paradys; 
Ne  eek  the  wrecche  Dedalus, 
Ne  his  child,  nyce  Icarus, 
That  fleigh  so  highe  that  the  hete 
His  winges  malt,  and  he  fel  wete 
In-mid  the  see,  and  ther  he  dreynte, 
For  whom  was  maked  moche  compleynte. 

"Now  turn  upward,"  quod  he,  "  thy  face, 
And  behold  this  large  place, 
This  air.    But  loke  thou  ne  be 
Adrad  of  hem  that  thou  shalt  see; 
For  in  this  regioun,  certein, 
Dwelleth  many  a  citezein, 
Of  which  that  speketh  Dan  Plato. 
These  ben  the  eyrishe  bestes,  lo!" 
And  so  saw  I  al  that  meynee 
Bothe  goon  and  also  flee. 
"Now,"  quod  he  tho,  "  cast  up  thyn  ye! 
See  yonder,  lo,  the  galaxye, 
Which  men  clepeth  the  Milky  Wey, 
For  hit  is  whyt;  and  somme,  parfey, 
Callen  hit  Watlinge  Strete, 
That  ones  was  y-brent  with  hete 
Whan  the  sonnes  sone,  the  rede, 
That  highte  Pheton,  wolde  lede 
Algate  his  fader  carte,  and^gye. 

Sk.  906-943 


46  CHAUCER 


700-737 


The  carte-hors  gonne  wel  espye 

That  he  ne  coude  no  governaunce, 

And  gonne  for  to  lepe  and  launce, 

And  beren  him  now  up,  now  doun, 

Til  that  he  saw  the  Scorpioun, 

Which  that  in  hevene  a  signe  is  yit. 

And  he  for  ferde  loste  his  wit 

Of  that,  and  leet  the  reynes  goon 

Of  his  hors;  and  they  anoon 

Gonne  up  to  mounte  and  doun  descende 

Til  bothe  the  eyr  and  erthe  brende, 

Til  lupiter,  lo,  atte  laste, 

Him  slow  and  fro  the  carte  caste. 

Lo,  is  it  not  a  greet  mischaunce 

To  lete  a  fool  han  governaunce 

Of  thing  that  he  can  not  demeine?  " 

And  with  this  word,  soth  for  to  seyne, 
He  gan  alway  upper  to  sore, 
And  gladded  me  ay  more  and  more, 
So  feithfully  to  me  spak  he. 

Tho  gan  I  loken  under  me, 
And  beheld  the  eyrishe  bestes, 
Cloudes,  mistes,  and  tempestes, 
Snowes,  hailes,  reines,  windes, 
And  thengendring  in  hir  kindes, 
And  al  the  wey  through  which  I  cam. 
"O  God,"  quod  I,  "that  made  Adam, 
Moche  is  thy  might  and  thy  noblesse!" 

And  tho  thoughte  I  upon  Boece, 
That  writ,  "A  thought  may  flee  so  hye, 
With  fetheres  of  Philosophye, 
To  passen  everich  element; 
And  whan  he  hath  so  fer  y-went, 
Than  may  be  seen,  behind  his  bak, 
Cloude  and  al  that  I  of  spak." 

Tho  gan  I  wexen  in  a  wer, 
And  seyde,  "I  woot  wel  I  am  heer; 
But  wher  in  body  or  in  gost 

Sk.  944-981 


738-775 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  47 


I  noot,  y-wis:  but  God,  thou  wost!" 
For  more  cleer  entendement 
Nad  he  me  nevere  yit  y-sent. 
And  than  thoughte  I  on  Marcian, 
And  eek  on  Anteclaudian, 
That  sooth  was  hir  descripcioun 
Of  al  the  hevenes  regioun 
As  fer  as  that  I  saw  the  preve. 
Therfore  I  can  hem  now  beleve. 

With  that  this  egle  gan  to  crye: 
"Lat  be/'  quod  he,  "thy  fantasye! 
Wilt  thou  lere  of  sterres  aught?" 
"Nay,  certeinly,"  quod  I,  "right  naught." 
"And  why?"    "  For  I  am  now  to  old." 
"Elles  I  wolde  thee  have  told," 
Quod  he,  "  the  sterres  names,  lo, 
And  alle  the  hevenes  signes  to, 
And  which  they  been."    "No  fors,"  quod  I. 
"Yis,  pardee,"  quod  he;  "wostow  why? 
For  whan  thou  redest  poetrye, 
How  goddes  gonne  stellifye 
Brid,  fish,  beest,  or  him  or  here, 
As  the  Raven,  or  either  Bere, 
Or  Ariones  harpe  fyn, 
Castor,  Pollux,  or  Delphyn, 
Or  Atlantes  doughtres  sevene, 
How  alle  these  arn  set  in  hevene: 
For  though  thou  have  hem  of  te  on  honde, 
Yet  nostow  not  wher  that  they  stonde." 
"No  fors,"  quod  I,  "hit  is  no  nede. 
I  leve  as  wel,  so  God  me  spede, 
Hem  that  wryte  of  this  matere 
As  though  I  knew  hir  places  here. 
And  eek  they  shynen  here  so  brighte, 
Hit  shulde  shenden  al  my  sighte 
To  loke  on  hem."    "That  may  wel  be," 
Quod  he.    And  so  forth  bar  he  me 
A  whyle,  and  than  he  gan  to  crye 

Sk.  982-1019 


48  CHAUCER  776*13 

That  nevere  herde  I  thing  so  hye, 
"Now  up  the  heed,  for  al  is  wel; 
Seynt  lulian,  lo,  bon  hostel! 
See  here  the  Hous  of  Fame,  lo! 
Maistow  not  heren  that  I  do?" 
"What?"  quod  I.    "The  grete  soun," 
Quod  he,  "  that  rumbleth  up  and  doun 
In  Fames  Hous,  ful  of  tydinges, 
Bothe  of  faire  speche  and  chydinges, 
And  of  false  and  sothe  compouned. 
Herkne  wel.    Hit  is  not  rouned. 
Herestow  not  the  grete  swogh?" 
"  Yis,  pardee,"  quod  I,  "wel  y-nogh." 
"And  what  soun  is  it  lyk?"  quod  he. 
"Peter!  lyk  beting  of  the  see," 
Quod  I,  "again  the  roches  holowe 
Whan  tempest  doth  the  shippes  swalowe, 
And  lat  a  man  stonde,  out  of  doute, 
A  myle  thens  and  here  hit  route; 
Or  elles  lyk  the  last  humblinge 
After  the  clappe  of  a  thundringe, 
Whan  loves  hath  the  air  y-bete. 
But  hit  doth  me  for  fere  swete!" 
"Nay,  dred  thee  not  therof,"  quod  he, 
"Hit  is  nothing  wil  byten  thee. 
Thou  shalt  non  harm  have,  trewely." 

And  with  this  word  bothe  he  and  I 
As  nigh  the  place  arryved  were 
As  men  may  casten  with  a  spere. 
I  niste  how,  but  in  a  strete 
He  sette  me  faire  on  my  fete, 
And  seyde,  "Walke  forth  a  pas, 
And  tak  thyn  aventure  or  cas 
That  thou  shalt  finde  in  Fames  place." 

"Now,"  quod  I,  "whyl  we  han  space 
To  speke,  or  that  I  go  fro  thee, 
For  the  love  of  God,  tell?  me, 
In  sooth,  that  wil  I  of  thee  lere, 

Sk.  1020*  1057 


*i4-846  THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  49 

If  this  noise  that  I  here 

Be,  as  I  have  herd  thee  tellen, 

Of  folk  that  doun  in  erthe  dwellen, 

And  comth  heer  in  the  same  wyse 

As  I  thee  herde  or  this  devyse; 

And  that  ther  lyves  body  nis 

In  al  that  hous  that  yonder  is, 

That  maketh  al  this  loude  fare?" 

"Now,"  quod  he,  "by  Seynte  Clare, 

And  also  wis  God  rede  me! 

But  o  thing  I  wil  warne  thee 

Of  the  which  thou  wolt  have  wonder. 

Lo,  to  the  Hous  of  Fame  yonder 

Thou  wost  how  cometh  every  speche; 

Hit  nedeth  noght  thee  eft  to  teche. 

But  understond  now  right  wel  this: 

Whan  any  speche  y-comen  is 

Up  to  the  paleys,  anon-right 

Hit  wexeth  lyk  the  same  wight 

Which  that  the  word  in  erthe  spak, 

Be  hit  clothed  reed  or  blak, 

And  hath  so  verray  his  lyknesse 

That  spak  the  word,  that  thou  wilt  gesse 

That  hit  the  same  body  be, 

Man  or  woman,  he  or  she. 

And  is  not  this  a  wonder  thing?" 

"Yis,"  quod  I  tho,  "by  Hevene-king!" 

And  with  this  word,  "Farwel,"  quod  he, 

"And  heer  I  wol  abyden  thee. 

And  God  of  hevene  sende  thee  grace 

Som  good  to  lernen  in  this  place." 

And  I  of  him  took  leve  anoon, 

And  gan  forth  to  the  paleys  goon. 

Explicit  liber  secundus. 

Sk.  1058-1090 


50  CHAUCER  847-875 

BOOK  III 
Incipit  liber  tercius. 

Invocation 

0  god  of  science  and  of  light, 
Apollo,  through  thy  grete  might, 
This  litel  laste  book  thou  gye! 
Nat  that  I  wilne  for  maistrye 
Heer  art  poetical  be  shewed, 

But,  for  the  rym  is  light  and  lewed, 
Yit  make  hit  sumwhat  agreable 
Though  som  vers  faile  in  a  sillable; 
And  that  I  do  no  diligence 
To  shewe  craft,  but  o  sentence. 
And  if,  divyne  vertu,  thou 
Wilt  helpe  me  to  shewe  now 
That  in  myn  heed  y-marked  is 
(Lo,  that  is  for  to  menen  this, 
The  Hous  of  Fame  to  descryve) 
Thou  shalt  see  me  go  as  blyve 
Unto  the  nexte  laure  I  see 
And  kisse  hit,  for  hit  is  thy  tree. 
Now  entreth  in  my  brest  anoon! — 

The  Dream 

Whan  I  was  fro  this  egle  goon, 

1  gan  beholde  upon  this  place. 
And  certein,  or  I  ferther  pace, 
I  wol  yow  al  the  shap  devyse 

Of  hous  and  site,  and  al  the  wyse 
How  I  gan  to  this  place  aproche 
That  stood  upon  so  high  a  roche, 
Hyer  stant  ther  noon  in  Spaine. 
But  up  I  clomb  with  alle  paine; 
And  though  to  climbe  hit  greved  me, 

Sk.  1091-1119 


g'6-913 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  51 


Yit  I  ententif  was  to  see 
And  for  to  pouren  wonder  lowe 
If  I  coude  any  weyes  knowe 
What  maner  stoon  this  roche  was. 
For  hit  was  lyk  a  thing  of  glas 
But  that  hit  shoon  ful  more  clere. 
But  of  what  congeled  matere 
Hit  was,  I  niste  redely. 

But  at  the  laste  espyed  I, 
And  found  that  hit  was  every  deel 
A  roche  of  yse  and  not  of  steel. 
Thoughte  I,  "By  Seynt  Thomas  of  Kent! 
This  were  a  feble  foundement 
To  bilden  on  a  place  hye. 
He  oughte  him  litel  glorifye 
That  her-on  bilte,  God  so  me  save!" 

Tho  saw  I  al  the  half  y-grave 
With  famous  folkes  names  fele, 
That  had  y-been  in  mochel  wele, 
And  hir  fames  wyde  y-blowe. 
But  wel  unethes  coude  I  knowe 
Any  lettres  for  to  rede 
Hir  names  by;  for  out  of  drede 
They  were  almost  of-thowed  so 
That  of  the  lettres  oon  or  two 
Was  molte  away  of  every  name: 
So  unfamous  was  wexe  hir  fame. 
But  men  seyn,  "What  may  evere  laste?" 

Tho  gan  I  in  myn  herte  caste 
That  they  were  molte  awey  with  hete 
And  not  awey  with  stormes  bete. 
For  on  that  other  syde  I  sey 
Of  this  hil  that  northward  lay, 
How  hit  was  writen  ful  of  names 
Of  folk  that  hadden  grete  fames 
Of  olde  tyme,  and  yit  they  were 
As  fresshe  as  men  had  writen  hem  there 
That  selve  day  right,  or  that  houre 

Sk.  1120-1157 


52  CHAUCER 


914-951 


That  I  upon  hem  gan  to  poure. 
But  wel  I  wiste  what  hit  made. 
Hit  was  conserved  with  the  shade — 
Al  this  wryting  that  I  sy — 
Of  a  castel,  that  stood  on  hy, 
And  stood  eek  on  so  cold  a  place 
That  hete  mighte  hit  not  deface. 

Tho  gan  I  up  the  hil  to  goon, 
And  fond  upon  the  cop  a  woon, 
That  alle  the  men  that  ben  on  lyve 
Ne  han  the  cunning  to  descryve 
The  beautee  of  that  ilke  place, 
Ne  coude  casten  to  compace 
Swich  another  for  to  make 
That  mighte  of  beautee  be  his  make 
Ne  so  wonderliche  y- wrought: 
That  hit  astonieth  yit  my  thought 
And  maketh  al  my  wit  to  swinke 
On  this  castel  to  bethinke. 
So  that  the  grete  beautee, 
The  cast,  the  curiositee, 
Ne  can  I  not  to  yow  devyse, 
My  wit  ne  may  me  not  suffyse. 

But  natheles  al  the  substance 
I  have  yit  in  my  remembrance. 
For- why  me  thoughte,  by  Seynt  Gyle! 
Al  was  of  stone  of  beryle, 
Bothe  the  castel  and  the  tour, 
And  eek  the  halle  and  every  bour, 
Withouten  peces  or  loininges. 
But  many  subtil  compassinges, 
Babewinnes  and  pinacles, 
Imageries  and  tabernacles, 
I  saw;  and  ful  eek  of  windowes, 
As  flakes  falle  in  grete  snowes. 
And  eek  in  ech  of  the  pinacles 
Weren  sondry  habitacles, 
In  which  stoden,  al  withoute, 

Sk. 1158-1195 


952-989 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  53 


Ful  the  castel  al  aboute 
Of  alle  maner  of  minstrales, 
And  gestiours,  that  tellen  tales 
Bothe  of  weping  and  of  game, 
Of  al  that  longeth  unto  fame. 

Ther  herde  I  pleyen  on  an  harpe, 
That  souned  bothe  wel  and  sharpe, 
Orpheus  ful  craftely, 
And  on  his  syde,  faste  by, 
Sat  the  harper  Orion, 
And  Eacides  Chiron, 
And  other  harpers  many  oon, 
And  the  Bret  Glascurion. 
And  smale  harpers  with  her  glees 
Seten  under  hem  in  sees, 
And  gonne  on  hem  upward  to  gape, 
And  countrefete  hem  as  an  ape, 
Or  as  craft  countrefeteth  kinde. 

Tho  saugh  I  stonden  hem  behinde, 
A-fer  fro  hem,  al  by  hemselve, 
Many  thousand  tymes  twelve, 
That  maden  loude  menstralcyes 
In  cornemuse,  and  shalmyes, 
And  many  other  maner  pype, 
That  craftely  begunne  pype 
Bothe  in  doucet  and  in  rede, 
That  ben  at  festes  with  the  brede; 
And  many  floute  and  lilting-horn, 
And  pypes  made  of  grene  corn, 
As  han  thise  litel  herde-gromes 
That  kepen  bestes  in  the  bromes. 

Ther  saugh  I  than  Atiteris, 
And  of  Athenes  Dan  Pseustis, 
And  Marcia  that  lost  her  skin 
Bothe  in  face,  body,  and  chin, 
For  that  she  wolde  envyen,  lo! 
To  pypen  bet  then  Apollo. 
Ther  saugh  I  famous,  olde  and  yonge, 

Sk. 1196-1233 


54  CHAUCER  990-1027 

Pypers  of  the  Duche  tonge 
To  lerne  love-daunces,  springes, 
Reyes,  and  these  straunge  thinges. 

Tho  saugh  I  in  another  place 
Stonden  in  a  large  space 
Of  hem  that  maken  blody  soun 
In  trumpe,  beme,  and  clarioun. 
For  in  fight  and  blood-shedinge 
Is  used  gladly  clarioninge. 

Ther  herde  I  trumpen  Messenus, 
Of  whom  that  speketh  Virgilius. 
Ther  herde  I  loab  trumpe  also, 
Theodomas,  and  other  mo, 
And  alle  that  used  clarion 
In  Cataloigne  and  Aragon, 
That  in  hir  tyme  famous  were 
To  lerne,  saugh  I  trumpe  there. 

Ther  saugh  I  sitte  in  other  sees, 
Pleying  upon  sondry  glees, 
Whiche  that  I  cannot  nevene, 
Mo  then  sterres  been  in  hevene, 
Of  which  I  nil  as  now  not  ryme, 
For  ese  of  yow  and  los  of  tyme. 
For  tyme  y-lost,  this  knowen  ye, 
By  no  way  may  recovered  be. 

Ther  saugh  I  pleyen  logelours, 
Magiciens  and  tregetours, 
And  phitonesses,  charmeresses, 
Olde  wicches,  sorceresses, 
That  use  exorsisaciouns 
And  eek  thise  fumigaciouns; 
And  clerkes  eke,  which  conne  wel 
Al  this  magyk  naturel, 
That  craf  tely  don  hir  ententes 
To  make  in  certeyn  ascendentes 
Images,  lo!  through  which  magyk 
To  make  a  man  ben  hool  or  syk! 
Ther  saugh  I  thee,  Queen  Medea, 

Sk.  1234-1271 


1028-1065 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  55 


And  Circes  eek,  and  Calipsa. 
Ther  saugh  I  Hermes  Ballenus, 
Lymote,  and  eek  Simon  Magus. 
Ther  saugh  I  and  knew  hem  by  name 
That  by  such  art  don  men  han  fame. 
Ther  saugh  I  Colle  tregetour 
Upon  a  table  of  sicamour 
Pleye  an  uncouth  thing  to  telle: 
I  saugh  him  carien  a  wind-melle 
Under  a  walsh-note  shale. 

What  shuld  I  make  lenger  tale 
Of  al  the  peple  that  I  say, 
Fro  hennes  in-to  domesday? 

Whan  I  had  al  this  folk  beholde, 
And  fond  me  lous  and  noght  y-holde, 
And  eft  y-mused  longe  whyle 
Upon  these  walles  of  beryle, 
That  shoon  ful  lighter  than  a  glas, 
And  made  wel  more  than  hit  was 
To  semen  every  thing,  y-wis, 
As  kinde  thing  of  fames  is, 
I  gan  forth  romen  til  I  fond 
The  castel-yate  on  my  right  hond, 
Which  that  so  wel  corven  was 
That  nevere  swich  another  nas, 
And  yit  hit  was  by  aventure 
Y-wrought  as  often  as  by  cure. 

Hit  nedeth  noght  yow  for  to  tellen, 
To  make  yow  to  longe  dwellen, 
Of  this  yates  florisshinges, 
Ne  of  compasses,  ne  of  kervinges, 
Ne  how  they  hatte  in  masoneries, 
As  corbets  fulle  of  imageries. 
But  Lord!  so  fair  hit  was  to  shewe, 
For  hit  was  al  with  gold  behewe. 
But  in  I  wente  and  that  anoon; 
Ther  mette  I  crying  many  oon: 
"A  largesse,  largesse,  hold  up  wel! 

Sk.  1272-1309 


56  CHAUCER  1066-1103 

God  save  the  lady  of  this  pel, 
Our  owne  gentil  lady  Fame, 
And  hem  that  wilnen  to  have  name 
Of  us!"    Thus  herde  I  cryen  alle, 
And  faste  comen  out  of  halle 
And  shoken  nobles  and  sterlinges. 
And  somme  crouned  were  as  kinges 
With  crounes  wrought  ful  of  losenges; 
And  many  riban  and  many  frenges 
Were  on  hir  clothes  trewely. 

Tho  atte  laste  aspyed  I 
That  pursevauntes  and  heraudes, 
That  cryen  riche  folkes  laudes, 
Hit  weren  alle.    And  every  man 
Of  hem,  as  I  yow  tellen  can, 
Had  on  him  throwen  a  vesture, 
Which  that  men  clepe  a  cote-armure, 
Enbrowded  wonderliche  riche 
Al-though  they  nere  nought  y-liche. 
But  noght  nil  I,  so  mote  I  thryve, 
Been  aboute  to  discryve 
Al  these  armes  that  ther  weren, 
That  they  thus  on  hir  cotes  beren, 
For  hit  to  me  were  impossible. 
Men  mighte  make  of  hem  a  bible 
Twenty  foot  thikke,  as  I  trowe. 
For  certeyn,  who-so  coude  y-knowe 
Mighte  ther  alle  the  armes  seen 
Of  famous  folk  that  han  y-been 
In  Auffrike,  Europe,  and  Asye, 
Sith  first  began  the  chevalrye. 

Lo!  how  shulde  I  now  telle  al  this? 
Ne  of  the  halle  eek  what  nede  is 
To  tellen  yow,  that  every  wal 
Of  hit,  and  floor,  and  roof  and  al 
Was  plated  hah"  a  fote  thikke 
Of  gold,  and  that  nas  no- thing  wikke, 
But,  for  to  prove  in  alle  wyse, 

Sk.  1310-1347 


1104-1141 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  57 


As  fyn  as  ducat  in  Venyse, 
Of  which  to  lyte  al  in  my  pouche  is? 
And  they  were  set  as  thikke  of  nouchis 
Fulle  of  the  fynest  stones  faire, 
That  men  rede  in  the  Lapidaire, 
As  greses  growen  in  a  mede. 
But  hit  were  al  to  longe  to  rede 
The  names,  and  therfore  I  pace. 

But  in  this  riche  lusty  place, 
That  Fames  halle  called  was, 
Ful  moche  prees  of  folk  ther  nas, 
Ne  crouding  for  to  mochil  prees. 
But  al  on  hye,  above  a  dees, 
Sitte  in  a  see  imperial, 
That  maad  was  of  a  rubee  al 
Which  that  a  carbuncle  is  y-called, 
I  saugh,  perpetually  y-stalled, 
A  feminyne  creature, 
That  nevere  formed  by  nature 
Nas  swich  another  thing  y-seye. 
For  altherfirst,  soth  for  to  seye, 
Me  thoughte  that  she  was  so  lyte 
That  the  lengthe  of  a  cubyte 
Was  lenger  than  she  semed  be; 
But  thus  sone  in  a  whyle  she 
Hir  tho  so  wonderliche  streighte 
That  with  hir  feet  she  therthe  reighte, 
And  with  hir  heed  she  touched  hevene, 
Ther  as  shynen  sterres  sevene. 
And  ther-to  eek,  as  to  my  wit, 
I  saugh  a  gretter  wonder  yit, 
Upon  hir  eyen  to  beholde. 
But  certeyn  I  hem  nevere  tolde; 
For  as  fele  eyen  hadde  she 
As  fetheres  upon  foules  be, 
Or  weren  on  the  bestes  foure 
That  Goddes  trone  gunne  honoure 
As  lohn  writ  in  thapocalips. 

Sk. 1348-1385 


53  CHAUCER  1142-1179 

Hir  heer,  that  oundy  was  and  crips, 
As  burned  gold  hit  shoon  to  see. 
And  sooth  to  tellen,  also  she 
Had  also  fele  up-stonding  eres 
And  tonges  as  on  bestes  heres. 
And  on  hir  feet  wexen  saugh  I 
Partriches  winges  redely. 

But  Lord !  the  perrie  and  the  richesse 
I  saugh  sitting  on  this  goddesse! 
And  Lord!  the  hevenish  melodye 
Of  songes,  ful  of  armonye, 
I  herde  aboute  her  trone  y-songe, 
That  al  the  paleys-walles  ronge! 
So  song  the  mighty  Muse,  she 
That  cleped  is  Caliopee, 
And  hir  eighte  sustren  eke, 
That  in  hir  face  semen  meke. 
And  everemo,  eternally, 
They  songe  of  Fame,  as  tho  herde  I: 
"Heried  be  thou  and  thy  name, 
Goddesse  of  renoun  and  of  fame!" 

Tho  was  I  war,  lo!  atte  laste, 
As  I  myn  eyen  gan  up  caste, 
That  this  ilke  noble  quene 
On  hir  shuldres  gan  sustene 
Bothe  tharmes  and  the  name 
Of  tho  that  hadde  large  fame: 
Alexander,  and  Hercules 
That  with  a  sherte  his  lyf  lees! 
And  thus  fond  I  sitting  this  goddesse 
In  nobleye,  honour,  and  richesse, 
Of  which  I  stinte  a  whyle  now, 
Other  thing  to  tellen  yow. 

Tho  saugh  I  stonde  on  either  syde, 
Streight  doun  to  the  dores  wyde 
Fro  the  dees,  many  a  pileer 
Of  metal,  that  shoon  not  ful  cleer. 
But  though  they  nere  of  no  richesse, 

Sk.  1386-1423 


1180-1217 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  59 


Yet  they  were  maad  for  greet  noblesse, 
And  in  hem  greet  and  hy  sentence. 
And  folk  of  digne  reverence, 
Of  which  I  wol  yow  telle  fonde, 
Upon  the  piler  saugh  I  stonde. 

Alderfirst,  lo!  ther  I  sigh, 
Upon  a  piler  stonde  on  high, 
That  was  of  leed  and  yren  fyn, 
Him  of  secte  Saturnyn, 
The  Ebrayk  losephus,  the  olde, 
That  of  lewes  gestes  tolde; 
And  bar  upon  his  shuldres  hye 
The  fame  up  of  the  lewerye. 
And  by  him  stoden  other  sevene, 
Wyse  and  worthy  for  to  nevene, 
To  helpen  him  bere  up  the  charge, 
Hit  was  so  hevy  and  so  large. 
And  for  they  writen  of  batailes 
As  wel  as  other  olde  mervailes, 
Therefore  was,  lo,  this  pileer, 
Of  which  that  I  yow  telle  heer 
Of  leed  and  yren  bothe,  y-wis. 
For  yren  Martes  metal  is, 
Which  that  god  is  of  bataile; 
And  the  leed,  withouten  faile, 
Is,  lo,  the  metal  of  Saturne, 
That  hath  ful  large  wheel  to  turne. 
Tho  stoden  forth,  on  every  rowe, 
Of  hem  which  that  I  coude  knowe, 
Thogh  I  hem  noght  by  ordre  telle 
To  make  yow  to  longe  to  dwelle. 

These,  of  which  I  ginne  rede, 
Ther  saugh  I  stonden,  out  of  drede, 
Upon  an  yren  piler  strong, 
That  peynted  was  al  endelong 
With  tygres  blood  in  every  place, 
The  Tholosan  that  highte  Stace, 
That  bar  of  Thebes  up  the  fame 

Sk. 1424-1461 


60  CHAUCER  1218-1255 

Upon  his  shuldres,  and  the  name 
Also  of  cruel  Achilles. 
And  by  him  stood,  withouten  lees, 
Ful  wonder  hye  on  a  pileer 
Of  yren,  he,  the  grete  Omeer, 
And  with  him  Dares  and  Tytus 
Before,  and  eek  he  Lollius, 
And  Guido  eek  de  Columpnis, 
And  English  Gaufride  eek,  y-wis. 
And  ech  of  these,  as  have  I  loye, 
Was  besy  for  to  bere  up  Troye. 
So  hevy  ther-of  was  the  fame 
That  for  to  bere  hit  was  no  game. 
But  yit  I  gan  ful  wel  espye, 
Betwix  hem  was  a  litel  envye. 
Oon  seyde,  Omer  made  lyes, 
Feyning  in  his  poetryes, 
And  was  to  Grekes  favorable: 
Therfore  held  he  hit  but  fable. 

Tho  saugh  I  stonde  on  a  pileer, 
That  was  of  tinned  yren  cleer, 
That  Latin  poete,  Virgyle, 
That  bore  hath  up  a  longe  whyle 
The  fame  of  Pius  Eneas. 

And  next  him  on  a  piler  was 
Of  coper,  Venus  clerk,  Ovyde, 
That  hath  y-sowen  wonder  wyde 
The  grete  god  of  Loves  name. 
And  ther  he  bar  up  wel  his  fame, 
Upon  this  piler,  also  hye 
As  I  might  see  hit  with  myn  ye: 
For-why  this  halle,  of  which  I  rede 
Was  woxe  on  highte,  lengthe  and  brede, 
Wel  more  by  a  thousand  del 
Than  hit  was  erst,  that  saugh  I  wel. 

Tho  saugh  I  on  a  piler  by, 
Of  yren  wroght  ful  sternely, 
The  grete  poete,  Daun  Lucan, 

Sk.  1462-1499 


1256-1293 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  61 


And  on  his  shuldres  bar  up  than 
As  highe  as  that  I  mighte  see 
The  fame  of  lulius  and  Pompee. 
And  by  him  stoden  alle  these  clerkes 
That  writen  of  Romes  mighty  werkes, 
That,  if  I  wolde  hir  names  telle, 
Al  to  longe  moste  I  dwelle. 

And  next  him  on  a  piler  stood 
Of  soulfre,  lyk  as  he  were  wood, 
Dan  Claudian,  the  soth  to  telle, 
That  bar  up  al  the  fame  of  helle, 
Of  Pluto,  and  of  Proserpyne, 
That  quene  is  of  the  derke  pyne. 

What  shulde  I  more  telle  of  this? 
The  halle  was  al  ful,  y-wis, 
Of  hem  that  writen  olde  gestes, 
As  ben  on  trees  rokes  nestes. 
But  hit  a  ful  confus  matere 
Were  al  the  gestes  for  to  here, 
That  they  of  write,  and  how  they  highte. 
But  whyl  that  I  beheld  this  sighte, 
I  herde  a  noise  aprochen  blyve 
That  ferde  as  been  don  in  an  hyve 
Agen  her  tyme  of  out-fleyinge. 
Right  swich  a  maner  murmuringe 
For  al  the  world  hit  semed  me. 

Tho  gan  I  loke  aboute  and  see 
That  ther  com  entring  into  the  halle 
A  right  gret  company  with-alle, 
And  that  of  sondry  regiouns, 
Of  alleskinnes  condiciouns 
That  dwelle  in  erthe  under  the  mone, 
Pore  and  ryche.    And  also  sone 
As  they  were  come  into  the  halle, 
They  gonne  doun  on  knees  falle 
Before  this  ilke  noble  quene 
And  seyde,  "  Graunte  us,  lady  shene, 
Ech  of  us,  of  thy  grace,  a  bone!" 

Sk.  1500-1537 


62 


CHAUCER 


1294-1331 


And  somme  of  hem  she  graunted  sone; 

And  somme  she  werned  wel  and  faire; 

And  somme  she  graunted  the  contraire 

Of  hir  axing  utterly. 

But  thus  I  seye  yow  trewely, 

What  hir  cause  was,  I  niste. 

For  this  folk,  ful  wel  I  wiste, 

They  hadde  good  fame  ech  deserved, 

Althogh  they  were  diversly  served: 

Right  as  hir  suster,  Dame  Fortune, 

Is  wont  to  serven  in  comune. 

Now  herkne  how  she  gan  to  paye 
That  gonne  hir  of  hir  grace  praye; 
And  yit,  lo,  al  this  companye 
Seyden  sooth  and  noght  a  lye. 

" Madame,"  seyden  they,  "we  be 
Folk  that  heer  besechen  thee 
That  thou  graunte  us  now  good  fame, 
And  lete  our  werkes  han  that  name. 
In  ful  recompensacioun 
Of  good  werk,  yef  us  good  renoun." 

"I  werne  yow  hit,"  quod  she  anoon. 
"Ye  gete  of  me  good  fame  noon, 
By  God!  and  therfore  go  your  wey." 

"Alas,"  quod  they,  "and  welaway! 
Telle  us  what  may  your  cause  be?" 

"For  me  list  hit  noght,"  quod  she. 
"No  wight  shal  speke  of  yow,  y-wis, 
Good  ne  harm,  ne  that  ne  this." 
And  with  that  word  she  gan  to  calle 
Hir  messager,  that  was  in  halle, 
And  bad  that  he  shulde  faste  goon, 
Up  peyne  to  be  blind  anoon, 
For  Eolus,  the  god  of  winder — 
"In  Trace  ther  ye  shul  him  finde, 
And  bid  him  bringe  his  clarioun, 
That  is  ful  dyvers  of  his  soun, 
And  hit  is  cleped  Clere  Laude, 


Sk.  1538-1575 


1332-1369 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  63 


With  which  he  wont  is  to  heraude 

Hem  that  me  list  y-preised  be. 

And  also  bid  him  how  that  he 

Bringe  his  other  clarioun, 

That  highte  Sclaundre  in  every  toun, 

With  which  he  wont  is  to  diffame 

Hem  that  me  list,  and  do  hem  shame.'* 

This  messager  gan  faste  goon, 
And  found  wher  in  a  cave  of  stoon, 
In  a  contree  that  highte  Trace, 
This  Eolus  (with  harde  grace!) 
Held  the  windes  in  distresse, 
And  gan  hem  under  him  to  presse, 
That  they  gonne  as  beres  rore, 
He  bond  and  pressed  hem  so  sore. 

This  messager  gan  faste  crye; 
"Rys  up,"  quod  he,  "and  faste  hye 
Til  that  thou  at  my  lady  be. 
And  tak  thy  clarions  eek  with  thee 
And  speed  thee  forth."    And  he  anon 
Took  to  a  man  that  hight  Triton 
His  clariouns  to  bere  tho, 
And  leet  a  certeyn  wind  to  go 
That  blew  so  hidously  and  hye 
That  hit  ne  lef  te  not  a  skye 
In  al  the  welken  longe  and  brood. 

This  Eolus  no- wher  abood 
Til  he  was  come  at  Fames  feet, 
And  eek  the  man  that  Triton  heet; 
And  ther  he  stood  as  still  as  stoon. 

And  her-withal  ther  com  anoon 
Another  huge  companye 
Of  gode  folk,  and  gunne  crye, 
"Lady,  graunte  us  now  good  fame, 
And  lat  our  werkes  han  that  name 
Now,  in  honour  of  gentilesse, 
And  also  God  your  soule  blesse! 
For  we  han  wel  deserved  hit, 

Sk.  1576-1613 


64  CHAUCER  1370-1407 

Therfore  is  right  that  we  ben  quit." 
"  As  thryve  I,"  quod  she,  "ye  shal  faile, 

Good  werkes  shal  yow  noght  availe 

To  have  of  me  good  fame  as  now. 

But  wotf  ye  what?    I  graunte  yow 

That  ye  shal  have  a  shrewed  fame 

And  wikked  loos  and  worse  name, 

Though  ye  good  loos  have  wel  deserved. 

Now  go  your  wey,  for  ye  be  served. 

And  thou,  Dan  Eolus,  let  see! 

Tak  forth  thy  trumpe  anon,"  quod  she, 

"That  is  y-cleped  Sclaundre  light, 

And  blow  hir  loos  that  every  wight 

Speke  of  hem  harm  and  shrewednesse 

In  stede  of  good  and  worthinesse. 

For  thou  shalt  trumpe  al  the  contraire 

Of  that  they  han  don  wel  or  faire." 
"Alas,"  thoughte  I,  "what  aventures 

Han  these  sory  creatures! 

For  they  amonges  al  the  pres 

Shul  thus  be  shamed  gilteles! 

But  what!  hit  moste  nedes  be." 
What  did  this  Eolus,  but  he 

Tok  oute  his  blakke  trumpe  of  bras, 

That  fouler  than  the  devil  was, 

And  gan  this  trumpe  for  to  blowe, 

As  al  the  world  shulde  overthrowe, 

That  through-oute  every  regioun 

Wente  this  foule  trumpes  soun 

As  swift  as  pelet  out  of  gonne 

Whan  fyr  is  in  the  poudre  ronne. 

And  swich  a  smoke  gan  out-wende 

Out  of  his  foule  trumpes  ende, 

Blak,  bio,  grenish,  swartish  reed, 

As  doth  wher  that  men  melte  leed, 

Lo,  al  on  high  fro  the  tuel! 

And  therto  oo  thing  saugh  I  wel, 

That  the  ferther  that  hit  ran 

Sk.  1614-1651 


1408-1445 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  65 


The  gretter  wexen  hit  began, 
As  doth  the  river  from  a  welle, 
And  hit  stank  as  the  pit  of  helle. 
Alas,  thus  was  hir  shame  y-ronge, 
And  giltelees,  on  every  tonge. 

Tho  com  the  thridde  companye 
And  gunne  up  to  the  dees  to  hye, 
And  doun  on  knees  they  fille  anon, 
And  seyde,  "We  ben  everychon 
Folk  that  han  ful  trewely 
Deserved  fame  rightfully, 
And  praye  yow  hit  mot  be  knowe 
Right  as  hit  is,  and  forth  y-blowe." 
"I  graunte,"  quod  she,  "for  me  list 
That  now  your  gode  werkes  be  wist. 
And  yit  ye  shul  han  better  loos, 
Right  in  dispyt  of  alle  your  foos, 
Than  worthy  is,  and  that  anoon. 
Lat  now,"  quod  she,  "thy  trumpe  goon, 
Thou  Eolus,  that  is  so  blak, 
And  oute  thyn  other  trumpe  tak 
That  highte  Laude,  and  blow  hit  so 
That  through  the  world  hir  fame  go 
Al  esely  and  not  to  faste, 
That  hit  be  knowen  atte  laste." 

"Ful  gladly,  lady  myn,"  he  seyde. 
And  oute  his  trumpe  of  gold  he  brayde 
Anon,  and  sette  hit  to  his  mouth, 
And  blew  hit  est,  and  west,  and  south. 
And  north,  as  loude  as  any  thunder, 
That  every  wight  had  of  hit  wonder, 
So  brode  hit  ran  or  than  hit  stente. 
And  certes  al  the  breeth  that  wente 
Out  of  his  trumpes  mouth  hit  smelde 
As  men  a  pot-ful  of  bawme  helde 
Among  a  basket  ful  of  roses. 
This  favour  did  he  til  hir  loses. 

And  right  with  this  I  gan  aspye 

Sk. 1652-1689 


66  CHAUCER  1446-MM 

Ther  com  the  ferthe  companye. 
But  certeyn  they  were  wonder  fewe, 
And  gonne  stonden  in  a  rewe, 
And  seyden,  "Certes,  lady  bright, 
We  han  don  wel  with  al  our  might, 
But  we  ne  kepen  have  no  fame. 
Hyd  our  werkes  and  our  name, 
For  Goddes  love!    For  certes  we 
Han  certyn  doon  hit  for  bountee 
And  for  no  maner  other  thing." 
"  I  graunte  yow  al  your  asking," 
Quod  she;  "let  your  werkes  be  deed." 

With  that  aboute  I  clew  myn  heed, 
And  saugh  anoon  the  fif  te  route 
That  to  this  lady  gonne  loute 
And  doun  on  knees  anoon  to  falle. 
And  to  hir  tho  besoughten  alle 
To  hyde  hir  gode  werkes  eek, 
And  seyde  they  yeven  noght  a  leek 
For  fame  ne  for  swich  renoun. 
For  they,  for  contemplacioun 
And  Goddes  love,  had  y- wrought; 
Ne  of  fame  wolde  they  noght. 

"What?"  quod  she,  "and  be  ye  wode? 
And  wene  ye  for  to  do  gode 
And  for  to  have  of  that  no  fame? 
Have  ye  dispyt  to  have  my  name? 
Nay,  ye  shul  liven  everichoon! 
Blow  thy  trumpe  and  that  anoon," 
Quod  she,  "thou  Eolus,  I  hote, 
And  ring  this  folkes  werk  by  note 
That  al  the  world  may  of  hit  here." 
And  he  gan  blowe  hir  loos  so  clere 
In  his  golden  clarioun 
That  through  the  world  wente  the  soun 
So  kenely  and  eek  so  softe, 
But  atte  laste  hit  was  on-lofte. 

Thoo  com  the  sexte  companye, 

Sk.  1690-1727 


1484-1521 


THE    HOUS   OF   FAME  67 


And  gonne  faste  on  Fame  crye. 
Right  verraily  in  this  manere 
They  seyden,  "Mercy,  lady  dere! 
To  telle  certein,  as  hit  is, 
We  han  don  neither  that  ne  this, 
But  ydel  al  our  lyf  y-be. 
But  natheles  yit  preye  we 
That  we  mowe  han  so  good  a  fame 
And  greet  renoun  and  knowen  name 
As  they  that  han  don  noble  gestes 
And  acheved  alle  hir  lestes, 
As  wel  of  love  as  other  thing. 
Al  was  us  nevere  brooch  ne  ring, 
Ne  elles  nought,  from  wimmen  sent, 
Ne  ones  in  hir  herte  y-ment 
To  make  us  only  frendly  chere 
But  mighte  temen  us  on  bere, 
Yet  lat  us  to  the  peple  seme 
Swich  as  the  world  may  of  us  deme, 
That  wimmen  loven  us  for  wode. 
Hit  shal  don  us  as  moche  gode, 
And  to  our  herte  as  moche  availe 
To  countrepeise  ese  and  travaile, 
As  we  had  wonne  hit  with  labour; 
For  that  is  dere  boght  honour 
At  regard  of  our  grete  ese. 
And  yit  thou  most  us  more  plese: 
Let  us  be  holden  eek,  therto, 
Worthy,  wyse,  and  gode  also, 
And  riche,  and  happy  unto  love. 
For  Goddes  love,  that  sit  above, 
Though  we  may  not  the  body  have 
Of  wimmen,  yet,  so  God  yow  save, 
Let  men  glewe  on  us  the  name. 
Suffyceth  that  we  han  the  fame." 

"I  graunte,"  quod  she,  "by  my  trouthe! 
Now,  Eolus,  with-outen  slouthe, 
Tak  oute  thy  trumpe  of  gold,"  quod  she, 

Sk.  1728-1765 


68  CHAUCER  1522-1559 

"  And  blow  as  they  han  axed  me, 
That  every  man  wene  hem  at  ese 
Though  they  gon  in  ful  badde  lese." 
This  Eolus  gan  hit  so  blowe 
That  through  the  world  hit  was  y-knowe. 

Tho  com  the  seventh  route  anoon, 
And  fel  on  knees  everichoon, 
And  seyde,  "Lady,  graunte  us  sone 
The  same  thing,  the  same  bone, 
That  this  nexte  folk  han  doon." 
"Fy  on  yow,"  quod  she,  " everichoon! 
Ye  masty  swyn,  ye  ydel  wrecches, 
Ful  of  roten  slowe  tecches! 
What?    false  theves!  wher  ye  wolde 
Be  famous  good,  and  no-thing  nolde 
Deserve  why,  ne  nevere  roughte? 
Men  rather  yow  to-hangen  oughte! 
For  ye  be  lyk  the  sweynte  cat 
That  wolde  have  fish,  but  wostow  what? 
He  wolde  no-thing  wete  his  clowes. 
Yvel  thrift  come  on  your  lowes 
And  eek  on  myn  if  I  hit  graunte 
Or  do  yow  favour  yow  to  avaunte! 
Thou  Eolus,  thou  king  of  Trace! 
Go,  blow  this  folk  a  sory  grace," 
Quod  she,  "anoon.    And  wostow  how? 
As  I  shal  telle  thee  right  now. 
Sey:  *  These  ben  they  that  wolde  honour 
Have,  and  do  noskinnes  labour, 
Ne  do  no  good,  and  yit  han  laude, 
And  that  men  wende  that  bele  Isaude 
Ne  coude  hem  nought  of  love  werne, 
And  yit  she  that  grint  at  a  querne 
Is  al  to  good  to  ese  hir  herte.'" 

This  Eolus  anon  up  sterte, 
And  with  his  blakke  clarioun 
He  gan  to  blasen  out  a  soun 
As  loude  as  belweth  wind  in  helle. 

Sk.  1766-1803 


1560-1597  THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  69 

And  eke  therwith,  sooth  to  telle, 
This  soun  was  so  ful  of  lapes 
As  evere  mowes  were  in  apes. 
And  that  wente  al  the  world  aboute, 
That  every  wight  gan  on  hem  shoute 
And  for  to  laughe  as  they  were  wode: 
Such  game  fonde  they  in  hir  hode. 

Tho  com  another  companye, 
That  had  y-doon  the  traiterye, 
The  harm,  the  gretest  wikkednesse 
That  any  herte  couthe  gesse, 
And  preyed  hir  to  han  good  fame, 
And  that  she  nolde  hem  doon  no  shame, 
But  yeve  hem  loos  and  good  renoun, 
And  do  hit  blowe  in  clarioun. 
"Nay,  wis,"  quod  she,  "hit  were  a  vyce! 
Al  be  ther  in  me  no  lustyce, 
Me  list  not  to  do  hit  now, 
Ne  this  nil  I  not  graunte  yow." 

Tho  com  ther  leping  in  a  route, 
And  gan  choppen  al  aboute 
Every  man  upon  the  croune 
That  al  the  halle  gan  to  soune, 
And  seyden:  "Lady,  lefe  and  dere, 
We  ben  swich  folk  as  ye  mowe  here. 
To  tellen  al  the  tale  aright, 
We  ben  shrewes,  every  wight, 
And  han  delyt  in  wikkednesse 
As  gode  folk  han  in  goodnesse, 
And  loye  to  be  knowen  shrewes 
And  ful  of  vyce  and  wikked  thewes. 
Wherfore  we  preyen  yow,  a-rowe, 
That  our  fame  swich  be  knowe 
In  alle  thing  right  as  hit  is." 

"I  graunte  hit  yow,"  quod  she,  "y-wis. 
But  what  art  thou  that  seyst  this  tale, 
That  werest  on  thy  hose  a  pale, 
And  on  thy  tipet  swich  a  belle!" 

Sk.  1804-1841 


70  CHAUCER  i598-i63s 

" Madame,"  quod  he,  "sooth  to  telle, 

I  am  that  like  shrewe,  y-wis, 

That  brende  the  temple  of  Isidis 

In  Athenes,  lo,  that  citee." 

"And  wherfore  didest  thou  so?"  quod  she. 

"By  my  thrift,"  quod  he,  "madame, 

I  wolde  fayn  han  had  a  fame 

As  other  folk  had  in  the  toun, 

Al-thogh  they  were  of  greet  renoun 

For  hir  vertu  and  for  hir  thewes. 

Thoughte  I,  as  greet  a  fame  han  shrewes, 

Thogh  hit  be  for  shrewednesse, 

As  gode  folk  han  for  goodnesse. 

And  sith  I  may  not  have  that  oon, 

That  other  nil  I  noght  for-goon. 

And  for  to  gette  of  Fames  hyre, 

The  temple  sette  I  al  a-fyre. 

Now  do  our  loos  be  blowen  swythe 

As  wisly  be  thou  evere  blythe." 

"Gladly,"  quod  she;  "thou  Eolus, 

Herestow  not  what  they  preyen  us?  " 

"Madame,  yis,  ful  wel,"  quod  he, 

"And  I  wil  trumpen  hit,  parde!" 

And  tok  his  blakke  trumpe  faste, 

And  gan  to  puffen  and  to  blaste, 

Til  hit  was  at  the  worldes  ende. 

With  that  I  gan  aboute  wende. 
For  oon  that  stood  right  at  my  bak, 
Me  thoughte,  goodly  to  me  spak 
And  seyde:  "Frend,  what  is  thy  name? 
Artow  come  hider  to  han  fame?  " 
"Nay,  for-sothe,  frend!"  quod  I; 
"I  cam  noght  hider,  graunt  mercy! 
For  no  swich  cause,  by  my  heed! 
Suffyceth  me,  as  I  were  deed, 
That  no  wight  have  my  name  in  honde. 
I  woot  my-self  best  how  I  stonde. 
For  what  I  drye  or  what  I  thinke, 

Sk. 1842-1879 


1636-1673  THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  71 

I  wol  my-selven  al  hit  drinke, 

Certeyn,  for  the  more  part, 

As  ferforth  as  I  can  myn  art." 

"But  what  dost  thou  here  than?"  quod  he. 

Quod  I,  "That  wol  I  tellen  thee— 

The  cause  why  I  stonde  here: 

Som  newe  tydinges  for  to  lere; 

Som  newe  thinges,  I  not  what, 

Tydinges,  other  this  or  that, 

Of  love  or  swiche  thinges  glade. 

For  certeynly,  he  that  me  made 

To  comen  hider,  seyde  me 

I  shulde  bothe  here  and  see, 

In  this  place,  wonder  thinges. 

But  these  be  no  swiche  tydinges 

As  I  mene  of."    "No? "  quod  he. 

And  I  answerde,  "No,  pardee! 

For  wel  I  wiste  evere  yit, 

Sith  that  first  I  hadde  wit, 

That  som  folk  han  desyred  fame 

Dyversly,  and  loos,  and  name; 

But  certeynly,  I  niste  how 

Ne  wher  that  Fame  dwelled  er  now, 

Ne  eek  of  hir  descripcioun, 

Ne  also  hir  condicioun, 

Ne  the  ordre  of  hir  doom, 

Unto  the  tyme  I  hider  com." 

"Which  than  be,  lo!  these  tydinges, 

That  thou  now  thus  hider  bringes, 

That  thou  hast  herd?"  quod  he  to  me; 

"  But  now,  no  f ors.    For  wel  I  see 

What  thou  desyrest  for  to  here. 

Com  forth,  and  stond  no  longer  here, 

And  I  wol  thee,  withouten  drede, 

In  swich  another  place  lede, 

Ther  thou  shalt  here  many  oon." 

Tho  gan  I  forth  with  him  to  goon 
Out  of  the  castel,  sooth  to  seye. 

Sk.  1880-1917 


72  CHAUCER 


1674-1711 


Tho  saugh  I  stonde  in  a  valeye, 
Under  the  castel,  faste  by, 
An  hous  that  domus  Dedali, 
That  Laborintus  cleped  is, 
Nas  maad  so  wonderliche,  y-wis, 
Ne  half  so  queynteliche  y-wrought. 
And  everemo,  so  swift  as  thought, 
This  queynte  hous  aboute  wente, 
That  nevere-mo  hit  stille  stente. 
And  ther-oute  com  so  greet  a  noise 
That,  had  hit  stonden  upon  Oise, 
Men  mighte  hit  han  herd  esely 
To  Rome,  I  trowe  sikerly. 
And  the  noyse  which  that  I  herde 
For  al  the  world  right  so  hit  ferde 
As  doth  the  routing  of  the  stoon 
That  from  thengyn  is  leten  goon. 

And  al  this  hous,  of  which  I  rede, 
Was  maad  of  twigges,  falwe,  rede, 
And  grene  eek,  and  som  weren  whyte, 
Swich  as  men  to  these  cages  thwyte, 
Or  maken  of  these  paniers, 
Or  elles  hottes  or  dossers, 
That  for  the  swough  and  for  the  twigges 
This  hous  was  also  ful  of  gigges, 
And  also  ful  eek  of  chirkinges, 
And  of  many  other  werkinges. 
And  eek  this  hous  hath  of  entrees 
As  fele  as  leves  been  on  trees 
In  somer,  whan  they  grene  been. 
And  on  the  roof  men  may  yit  seen 
A  thousand  holes  and  wel  mo 
To  leten  wel  the  soun  oute  go. 

And  by  day,  in  every  tyde, 
Ben  al  the  dores  open  wyde, 
And  by  night,  echoon  unshette. 
Ne  porter  ther  is  noon  to  lette 
No  maner  tydinges  in  to  pace; 

Sk.  1918-1955 


i:i2-i749  THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  73 

Ne  nevere  reste  is  in  that  place 
That  hit  nis  fild  ful  of  tydinges, 
Other  loude,  or  of  whispringes. 
And  over  alle  the  houses  angles 
Is  ful  of  rouninges  and  of  langles 
Of  werres,  of  pees,  of  mariages, 
Of  restes,  of  labour,  of  viages, 
Of  abood,  of  deeth,  of  lyf , 
Of  love,  of  hate,  acord,  of  stryf, 
Of  loos,  of  lore,  and  of  winninges, 
Of  hele,  of  sekenesse,  of  bildinges, 
Of  faire  windes,  of  tempestes, 
Of  qualm  of  folk,  and  eek  of  bestes, 
Of  dyvers  transmutaciouns 
Of  estats,  and  eek  of  regiouns, 
Of  trust,  of  drede,  of  lelousye, 
Of  wit,  of  winning,  of  folye, 
Of  plentee,  and  of  greet  famyne, 
Of  chepe,  of  derth,  and  of  ruyne, 
Of  good  or  mis  governement, 
Of  fyr,  and  dyvers  accident. 

And  lo,  this  hous,  of  which  I  wryte 
Siker  be  ye  hit  nas  not  lyte; 
For  hit  was  sixty  myle  of  lengthe. 
Al  was  the  timber  of  no  strengthe, 
Yet  hit  is  founded  to  endure 
Whyl  that  hit  list  to  Aventure, 
That  is  the  moder  of  tydinges, 
As  the  see  of  welles  and  springes. 
And  hit  was  shapen  lyk  a  cage. 

"Certes,"  quod  I,  "in  al  myn  age 
Ne  saugh  I  swich  a  hous  as  this!" 
And  as  I  wondred  me,  y-wis, 
Upon  this  hous,  tho  war  was  I 
How  that  myn  egle  faste  by 
Was  perched  hye  upon  a  stoon. 
And  I  gan  streight  to  him  goon 
And  seyde  thus:    "I  preye  thee 

Sk.  1956-1993 


74  CHAUCER  nso-1787 

That  thou  a  whyle  abyde  me 
For  Goddes  love,  and  let  me  seen 
What  wondres  in  this  place  been. 
For  yit,  paraunter,  I  may  lere 
Som  good  ther-on,  or  sumwhat  here 
That  leef  me  were,  or  that  I  wente." 

"Peter!  that  is  myn  entente," 
Quod  he  to  me.    "  Therfore  I  dwelle. 
But  certein,  oon  thing  I  thee  telle, 
That,  but  I  bringe  thee  ther-in, 
Ne  shalt  thou  nevere  cunne  gin 
To  come  in-to  hit,  out  of  doute. 
So  faste  hit  whirleth,  lo,  aboute. 
But  sith  that  loves  of  his  grace, 
As  I  have  seyd,  wol  thee  solace 
Fynally  with  these  thinges: 
Uncouthe  sightes  and  tydinges, 
To  passe  with  thyn  hevinesse, 
(Such  routhe  hath  he  of  thy  distresse, — 
That  thou  suffrest  debonairly, 
And  wost  thy-selven  utterly 
Disesperat  of  alle  blis, 
Sith  that  Fortune  hath  maad  a-mis 
The  fruit  of  al  thyn  hertes  reste 
Languisshe  and  eek  in  point  to  breste, — 
That  he,  through  his  mighty  meryte, 
Wol  do  thee  ese,  al  be  hit  lyte, 
And  yaf  in  expres  commaundement, 
To  which  I  am  obedient, 
To  furthre  thee  with  al  my  might, 
And  wisse  and  teche  thee  aright 
Wher  thou  maist  most  tydinges  here) 
Shaltow  heer  anoon  many  oon  lere." 

With  this  word  he  right  anoon 
Hente  me  up  bitwene  his  toon, 
And  at  a  windowe  in  me  broghte, 
That  in  this  hous  was,  as  me  thoghte 
(And  ther-withal  me  thoghte  hit  stente, 

Sk.  1994-2031 


1788-1824  THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  75 

And  no- thing  hit  aboute  wente) 

And  me  sette  in  the  floor  adoun. 

But  which  a  congregacioun 

Of  folk,  as  I  saugh  rome  aboute 

Some  within  and  some  withoute, 

Nas  nevere  seen,  ne  shal  ben  eft, 

That,  certes,  in  this  world  nis  left 

So  many  formed  by  Nature, 

Ne  deed  so  many  a  creature: 

That  wel  unethe  in  that  place 

Had  I  oon  foot-brede  of  space. 

And  every  wight  that  I  saugh  there 

Rouned  everich  in  otheres  ere 

A  newe  tydinge  prevely; 

Or  elles  tolde  al  openly 

Right  thus,  and  seyde:    "Nost  not  thou 

That  is  betid,  lo,  late  or  now?  " 

"No,"  quod  the  other,  "tell?  me  what!" 
And  than  he  tolde  him  this  or  that, 
And  swoor  ther-to  that  hit  was  sooth — 
"Thus  hath  he  seyd"— and  "Thus  he  dooth"— 
And   "Thus   shal  hit  be"— and   "Thus  herde   I 

seye"— 

"That  shal  be  found"—  "That  dar  I  leye"— 
That  al  the  folk  that  is  a-lyve 
Ne  han  the  cunning  to  discryve 
The  thinges  that  I  herde  there, 
What  aloude,  and  what  in  ere. 
But  al  the  wonder-most  was  this: — 
Whan  oon  had  herd  a  thing,  y-wis, 
He  com  forth  to  another  wight 
And  gan  him  tellen  anoon-right 
The  same  that  to  him  was  told 
Or  hit  a  furlong-way  was  old, 
But  gan  somwhat  for  to  eche 
To  this  tydinge  in  this  speche 
More  than  hit  evere  was. 
And  nat  so  sone  departed  nas 

Sk. 2032-2068 


76  CHAUCER 


1825-1862 


That  he  fro  him,  that  he  ne  mette 

With  the  thridde;  and,  or  he  lette 

Any  stounde,  he  tolde  him  als. 

Were  the  tydinge  sooth  or  fals, 

Yit  wolde  he  telle  hit  nathelees, 

And  everemo  with  more  encrees 

Than  hit  was  erst.    Thus  north  and  south 

Wente  every  tydinge  fro  mouth  to  mouth. 

And  that  encresing  evere-mo, 

As  fyr  is  wont  to  quikke  and  go 

From  a  sparke  spronge  amis 

Til  al  a  citee  brent  up  is. 

And  whan  that  was  ful  y-spronge 
And  woxen  more  on  every  tonge 
Than  evere  hit  was,  hit  wente  anoon 
Up  to  a  windowe  oute  to  goon, 
Or,  but  hit  mighte  oute  ther  pace, 
Hit  gan  oute  crepe  at  som  crevace 
And  fleigh  forth  faste  for  the  nones. 

And  somtyme  saugh  I  tho,  at  ones, 
A  lesing  and  a  sad  soth-sawe, 
That  gonne  of  aventure  drawe 
Oute  at  a  windowe  for  to  pace; 
And  when  they  metten  in  that  place, 
They  were  a-chekked  bothe  two 
And  neither  of  hem  moste  oute  go. 
For  other  so  they  gonne  croude 
Til  ech  of  hem  gan  cryen  loude, 
"Lat  me  go  first!"    "Nay,  but  lat  me! 
And  heer  I  wol  ensuren  thee 
With  the  nones  that  thou  wolt  do  so 
That  I  shal  nevere  fro  thee  go 
But  be  thyn  owne  sworen  brother! 
We  wil  medle  us  ech  with  other 
That  no  man,  be  he  nevere  so  wrooth, 
Shal  han  that  oon  of  two  but  both 
At  ones,  al  beside  his  leve, 
Come  we  a-morwe  or  on  eve, 

Sk. 2069-2106 


1863-1900 


THE   HOUS   OF   FAME  77 


Be  we  cryed  or  stille  y-rouned." 

Thus  saugh  I  fals  and  sooth  compouned 

Togeder  flee  for  oo  tydinge. 

Thus  out  at  holes  gonne  wringe 
Every  tydinge  streight  to  Fame. 
And  she  gan  yeven  ech  his  name 
After  hir  disposicioun, 
And  yaf  hem  eek  duracioun, 
Some  to  wexe  and  wane  sone 
As  dooth  the  faire  whyte  mone, 
And  leet  hem  gon.    Ther  mighte  I  seen 
Wenged  wondres  faste  Seen, 
Twenty  thousand  in  a  route, 
As  Eolus  hem  blew  aboute. 

And  Lord!  this  hous  in  alle  tymes 
Was  full  of  shipmen  and  pilgrymes, 
With  scrippes  bret-ful  of  lesinges, 
Entremedled  with  tydinges, 
And  eek  alone  by  hem-selve. 
O,  many  thousand  tymes  twelve 
Saugh  I  eek  of  these  pardoneres, 
Currours,  and  eke  messageres, 
With  boistes  crammed  ful  of  lyes 
As  evere  vessel  was  with  lyes. 
And  as  I  alther-fastest  wente 
Aboute  and  did  al  myn  entente 
Me  for  to  pleye  and  for  to  lere 
And  eek  a  tydinge  for  to  here 
That  I  had  herd  of  som  con  tree 
That  shal  not  now  be  told  for  me — 
For  hit  no  nede  is,  redely: 
Folk  can  singe  hit  bet  than  I; 
For  al  mot  oute  other  late  or  rathe, 
Alle  the  sheves  in  the  lathe — 
I  herde  a  gret  noise  withalle 
In  a  corner  of  the  halle 
Ther  men  of  love  tydinges  tolde, 
And  I  gan  thiderward  beholde. 

Sk.  2107-2144 


78  CHAUCER 


1901-1914 


For  I  saugh  renning  every  wight 
As  faste  as  that  they  hadden  might ; 
And  everich  cryed,  "What  thing  is  that?" 
And  som  seyde,  "I  not  nevere  what!" 
And  whan  they  were  alle  on  an  hepe, 
Tho  behinde  gonne  up  lepe, 
And  clamben  up  on  other  faste, 
And  up  the  nose  on  hye  caste, 
And  troden  faste  on  otheres  heles 
And  stampe,  as  men  don  after  eles. 

Atte  laste  I  saugh  a  man 
Which  that  I  nevene  naught  ne  can, 
But  he  semed  for  to  be 
A  man  of  greet  auctoritee 

Sk. 2145-2158 

(Unfinished.) 


THE  PARLEMENT  OF  FOULES 

The  lyf  so  short,  the  craft  so  long  to  lerne, 
Thassay  so  hard,  so  sharp  the  conqueringe, 
The  dredful  loye,  that  alwey  slit  so  yerne, 
Al  this  mene  I  by  love,  that  my  felinge 
Astonyeth  with  his  wonderful  worchinge 
So  sore  y-wis,  that  whan  I  on  him  thinke, 
Nat  wot  I  wel  wher  that  I  wake  or  winke. 

For  al  be  that  I  knowe  not  love  in  dede, 
Ne  wot  how  that  he  quyteth  folk  hir  hyre, 
Yet  happeth  me  ful  ofte  in  bokes  rede 
Of  his  miracles  and  his  cruel  yre. 
Ther  rede  I  wel  he  wol  be  lord  and  syre, — 
I  dar  not  seyn  his  strokes  been  so  sore, 
But  God  save  swich  a  lord!    I  can  no  more. 

Of  usage,  what  for  luste  what  for  lore, 
On  bokes  rede  I  ofte,  as  I  yow  tolde. 
But  wherfore  that  I  speke  al  this?  not  yore 
Agon,  hit  happed  me  for  to  beholde 
Upon  a  book,  was  write  with  lettres  olde; 
And  ther-upon,  a  certeyn  thing  to  lerne, 
The  longe  day  ful  faste  I  radde  and  yerne. 

For  out  of  olde  feldes,  as  men  seith, 
Cometh  al  this  newe  corn  fro  yeer  to  yere; 
And  out  of  olde  bokes,  in  good  feith, 
Cometh  al  this  newe  science  that  men  lere. 
But  now  to  purpos  as  of  this  matere: 
To  rede  forth  hit  gan  me  so  delyte 
That  al  the  day  me  thoughte  but  a  lyte. 

This  book  of  which  I  make  mencioun, 
Entitled  was  al  thus  as  I  shal  telle, 
"Tullius  of  the  dreem  of  Scipioun." 

Sk.  1-31 


80  CHAUCER 

Chapitres  sevene  hit  hadde,  of  hevene  and  helle, 
And  erthe,  and  soules  that  therinne  dwelle, 
Of  which,  as  shortly  as  I  can  hit  trete, 
Of  his  sentence  I  wol  yow  seyn  the  grete. 

First  telleth  hit,  whan  Scipioun  was  come 
In  Afrike,  how  he  mette  Massinisse, 
That  him  for  loye  in  armes  hath  y-nome. 
Than  telleth  hit  hir  speche  and  al  the  blisse 
That  was  betwix  hem  til  the  day  gan  misse; 
And  how  his  auncestre,  African  so  dere, 
Gan  in  his  sleep  that  night  to  him  appere. 

Than  telleth  hit  that  fro  a  sterry  place 
How  African  hath  him  Cartage  shewed, 
And  warned  him  before  of  al  his  grace, 
And  seyde  him  what  man,  lered  other  lewed, 
That  loveth  comune  profit,  wel  y-thewed, 
He  shal  unto  a  blisful  place  wende, 
Ther  as  loye  is  that  last  withouten  ende. 

Than  asked  he  if  folk  that  heer  be  dede 
Have  lyf  and  dwelling  in  another  place. 
And  African  seyde,  "Ye,  withoute  drede," 
And  that  our  present  worldes  lyves  space 
Nis  but  a  maner  deth,  what  wey  we  trace, 
And  rightful  folk  shal  go  after  they  dye 
To  hevene,  and  shewed  him  the  galaxye. 

Than  shewed  he  him  the  litel  erthe  that  heer  is, 

At  regard  of  the  hevenes  quantite; 

And  after  shewed  he  him  the  nyne  speres, 

And  after  that  the  melodye  herde  he 

That  cometh  of  thilke  speres  thryes  three, 

That  welle  is  of  musyke  and  melodye 

In  this  world  heer,  and  cause  of  armonye. 

Than  bad  he  him,  sin  erthe  was  so  lyte 
And  ful  of  torment  and  of  harde  grace, 
That  he  ne  shulde  him  in  the  world  delyte. 

Sk.  32-66 


€7-101          THE   PARLEMENT   OF   FOULES  81 

Than  tolde  he  him,  in  certeyn  yeres  space, 
That  every  sterre  shulde  come  into  his  place 
Ther  hit  was  first,  and  al  shulde  out  of  minde 
That  in  this  world  is  don  of  al  mankinde. 

Than  prayde  him  Scipioun  to  telle  him  al 
The  wey  to  come  un-to  that  hevene  blisse. 
And  he  seyde,  "Know  thy-self  first  immortal, 
And  loke  ay  besily  thou  werke  and  wisse 
To  comune  profit,  and  thou  shalt  nat  misse 
To  comen  swiftly  to  that  place  dere, 
That  ful  of  blisse  is  and  of  soules  clere. 

"But  brekers  of  the  la  we,  sooth  to  seyne, 
And  lecherous  folk,  after  that  they  be  dede, 
Shul  alwey  whirle  aboute  therthe  in  peyne 
Til  many  a  world  be  passed,  out  of  drede, 
And  than,  for-yeven  alle  hir  wikked  dede, 
Than  shul  they  come  unto  that  blisful  place, 
To  which  to  comen  God  thee  sende  his  grace!" 

The  day  gan  failen,  and  the  derke  night, 
That  reveth  bestes  from  hir  besinesse, 
Berafte  me  my  book  for  lak  of  light, 
And  to  my  bed  I  gan  me  for  to  dresse, 
Fulfild  of  thought  and  besy  hevinesse. 
For  bothe  I  hadde  thing  which  that  I  nolde, 
And  eek  I  ne  hadde  that  thing  that  I  wolde. 

But  fynally  my  spirit  at  the  laste 

For  wery  of  my  labour  al  the  day 

Took  reste,  that  made  me  to  slepe  faste, 

And  in  my  sleep  I  mette,  as  I  lay, 

How  African,  right  in  that  selfe  aray 

That  Scipioun  him  saw  before  that  tyde, 

Was  comen  and  stood  right  at  my  beddes  syde. 

The  wery  hunter,  sleping  in  his  bed, 
To  wode  ayein  his  minde  goth  anoon; 
The  luge  dremeth  how  his  plees  ben  sped; 

Sk.  67-101 


82  CHAUCER  102-133 

The  carter  dremeth  how  his  cartes  goon; 

The  riche,  of  gold;  the  knight  fight  with  his  foon; 

The  seke  met  he  drinketh  of  the  tonne; 

The  lover  met  he  hath  his  lady  wonne. 

Can  I  nat  seyn  if  that  the  cause  were 

For  I  had  red  of  African  beforn, 

That  made  me  to  mete  that  he  stood  there; 

But  thus  seyde  he,  "Thou  hast  thee  so  wel  born 

In  loking  of  myn  olde  book  to-torn, 

Of  which  Macrobie  roghte  nat  a  lyte, 

That  somdel  of  thy  labour  wolde  I  quyte!" 

Citherea!  thou  blisful  lady  swete, 

That  with  thy  fyr-brand  dauntest  whom  thee  lest, 

And  madest  me  this  sweven  for  to  mete, 

Be  thou  my  help  in  this  for  thou  mayst  best. 

As  wisly  as  I  saw  thee  north-north-west 

When  I  began  my  sweven  for  to  wryte, 

So  yif  me  might  to  ryme  hit  and  endyte! 

The  Story 

This  forseid  African  me  hente  anoon, 

And  forth  with  him  unto  a  gate  broghte 

Right  of  a  park  walled  with  grene  stoon; 

And  over  the  gate,  with  lettres  large  y-wroghte, 

Ther  were  vers  y-writen,  as  me  thoghte, 

On  eyther  halfe,  of  ful  gret  difference, 

Of  which  I  shal  yow  seye  the  pleyn  sentence. 

"Thorgh  me  men  goon  in- to  that  blisful  place 
Of  hertes  hele  and  dedly  woundes  cure; 
Thorgh  me  men  goon  unto  the  welle  of  Grace, 
Ther  grene  and  lusty  May  shal  evere  endure; 
This  is  the  wey  to  al  good  aventure; 
Be  glad,  thou  reder,  and  thy  sorwe  of-caste, 
Al  open  am  I:  passe  in,  and  hy  the  faste!" 

Sk.  102-133 


134-168        THE   PARLEMENT   OF   FOULES  83 

"Thorgh  me  men  goon,"  than  spak  that  other  syde, 

"Unto  the  mortal  strokes  of  the  spere, 

Of  which  Disdayn  and  Daunger  is  the  gyde, 

Ther  tree  shal  nevere  fruyt  ne  leves  here. 

This  streem  yow  ledeth  to  the  sorwful  were 

Ther  as  the  fish  in  prison  is  al  drye; 

Theschewing  is  only  the  remedy e." 

Thise  vers  of  gold  and  blak  y-writen  were, 
The  which  I  gan  a-stonyed  to  beholde; 
For  with  that  oon  encresed  ay  my  fere, 
And  with  that  other  gan  myn  herte  bolde. 
That  oon  me  hette,  that  other  did  me  colde: 
No  wit  had  I,  for  errour,  for  to  chese 
To  entre  or  flee,  or  me  to  save  or  lese. 

Right  as  betwixen  adamauntes  two 

Of  even  might  a  pece  of  iren  y-set 

That  hath  no  might  to  meve  to  ne  fro 

(For  what  that  oon  may  hale,  that  other  let) 

Ferde  I,  that  niste  whether  me  was  bet 

To  entre  or  leve,  til  African  my  gyde 

Me  hente,  and  shoof  in  at  the  gates  wyde. 

And  seyde,  "Hit  stondeth  writen  in  thy  face 
Thyn  errour,  though  thou  telle  it  not  to  me. 
But  dred  thee  nat  to  come  in-to  this  place, 
For  by  this  wryting  is  no-thing  ment  by  thee, 
Ne  by  noon  but  he  Loves  servant  be. 
For  thou  of  love  hast  lost  thy  tast,  I  gesse, 
As  seek  man  hath  of  swete  and  bitternesse. 

"But  natheles,  al-though  that  thou  be  dul, 
Yit  that  thou  canst  not  do,  yit  mayst  thou  see. 
For  many  a  man  that  may  not  stonde  a  pul 
Yit  lyketh  him  at  the  wrastling  for  to  be, 
And  demeth  yit  wher  he  do  bet  or  he. 
And  if  thou  haddest  cunning  for  tendyte, 
I  shal  thee  shewen  matere  of  to  wryte." 

Sk.  134-168 


84  CHAUCER  169-203 

With  that  my  hond  in  his  he  took  anoon, 
Of  which  I  comfort  caughte,  and  wente  in  faste. 
But  Lord!  so  I  was  glad  and  wel  begoon! 
For  over-al  wher  that  I  myn  eyen  caste 
Were  trees  clad  with  leves  that  ay  shal  laste, 
Ech  in  his  kinde,  of  colour  freshe  and  grene 
As  emeraude,  that  loye  was  to  sene. 

The  bilder  ook,  and  eek  the  hardy  asshe; 
The  piler  elm,  the  cofre  unto  careyne; 
The  box- tree  piper;  holm  to  whippes  lasshe; 
The  sayling  firr;  the  cipres,  deth  to  pleyne; 
The  sheter  ew,  the  asp  for  shaftes  pleyne; 
The  olyve  of  pees,  and  eek  the  drunken  vyne; 
The  victor  palm,  the  laurer  to  devyne. 

A  garden  saw  I,  ful  of  blosmy  bowes, 
Upon  a  river,  in  a  grene  mede, 
Ther  as  that  swetnesse  everemore  y-now  is, 
With  floures  whyte,  blewe,  yelowe,  and  rede; 
And  colde  welle-stremes,  no-thing  dede, 
That  swommen  ful  of  smale  fisshes  lighte, 
With  finnes  rede  and  scales  silver-brighte. 

On  every  bough  the  briddes  herde  I  singe, 

With  voys  of  aungel  in  hir  armonye. 

Som  besyed  hem  hir  briddes  forth  to  bringe. 

The  litel  conyes  to  hir  pley  gunne  hye, 

And  further  al  aboute  I  gan  espye 

The  dredful  roo,  the  buk,  the  hert  and  hinde, 

Squerels,  and  bestes  smale  of  gentil  kinde. 

Of  instruments  of  strenges  in  acord 
Herde  I  so  pleye  a  ravisshing  swetnesse 
That  God,  that  maker  is  of  al  and  lord, 
Ne  herde  nevere  better,  as  I  gesse. 
Therwith  a  wind,  unnethe  hit  might  be  lesse, 
Made  in  the  leves  grene  a  noise  softe 
Acordant  to  the  foules  song  on-lof te. 

Sk.  169-203 


204-238         THE   PARLEMENT   OF    FOULES  85 

The  air  of  that  place  so  attempre  was 
That  nevere  was  grevaunce  of  hoot  ne  cold. 
Ther  wex  eek  every  holsom  spyce  and  gras; 
Ne  no  man  may  ther  wexe  seek  ne  old. 
Yet  was  ther  loye  more  a  thousand  fold 
Then  man  can  telle;  ne  nevere  wolde  it  nighte, 
But  ay  cleer  day  to  any  mannes  sighte. 

Under  a  tree  besyde  a  welle  I  say 
Cupyde  our  lord  his  arwes  forge  and  fyle. 
And  at  his  feet  his  bowe  al  redy  lay, 
And  wel  his  doghter  tempred  al  the  whyle 
The  hedes  in  the  welle,  and  with  hir  wyle 
She  couched  hem  after  as  they  shulde  serve, 
Som  for  to  slee,  and  som  to  wounde  and  kerve. 

Tho  was  I  war  of  Plesaunce  anon-right, 

And  of  Aray,  and  Lust,  and  Curtesye; 

And  of  the  Craft  that  can  and  hath  the  might 

To  doon  by  force  a  wight  to  do  folye — 

Disfigurat  was  she,  I  nil  not  lye; 

And  by  him-self  under  an  ook,  I  gesse, 

Sawe  I  Delyt,  that  stood  with  Gentilnesse. 

I  saw  Beautee  withouten  any  atyr, 
And  Youthe  ful  of  game  and  lolyte, 
Fool-hardinesse,  Flaterye,  and  Desyr, 
Messagerye,  and  Mede,  and  other  three — 
Hir  names  shul  noght  heer  be  told  for  me — 
And  upon  pilers  grete  of  lasper  longe 
I  saw  a  temple  of  bras  y-founded  stronge. 

Aboute  the  temple  daunceden  alway 
Wommen  y-nowe,  of  which  somme  ther  were 
Faire  of  hem-self,  and  somme  of  hem  were  gay. 
In  kirtels,  al  disshevele,  wente  they  there 
(That  was  hir  office  alwey,  yeer  by  yere) 
And  on  the  temple,  of  doves  whyte  and  faire 
Saw  I  sitting  many  a  hundred  paire. 

Sk.  204-238 


86  CHAUCER  239-273 

Before  the  temple-dore  ful  soberly 
Dame  Pees  sat  with  a  curteyn  in  hir  hond. 
And  hir  besyde,  wonder  discretly, 
Dame  Pacience  sitting  ther  I  fond 
With  face  pale,  upon  an  hil  of  sond; 
And  alder-next,  within  and  eek  with-oute, 
Beheste  and  Art,  and  of  hir  folk  a  route. 

Within  the  temple,  of  syghes  hote  as  fyr 
I  herde  a  swogh  that  gan  aboute  renne; 
Which  syghes  were  engendred  with  desyr, 
That  maden  every  auter  for  to  brenne 
Of  newe  flaume.    And  wel  aspyed  I  thenne 
That  al  the  cause  of  sorwes  that  they  drye 
Com  of  the  bitter  goddesse  lalousye. 

The  god  Priapus  saw  I  as  I  wente, 
Within  the  temple  in  soverayn  place  stonde, 
In  swich  aray  as  whan  the  asse  him  shente 
With  cry  by  night  and  with  his  ceptre  in  honde. 
Ful  besily  men  gunne  assaye  and  fonde 
Upon  his  heed  to  sette,  of  sondry  hewe, 
Garlondes  ful  of  fresshe  floures  newe. 

And  in  a  privee  corner  in  disport 
Fond  I  Venus  and  hir  porter  Richesse, 
That  was  ful  noble  and  hauteyn  of  hir  port. 
Derk  was  that  place,  but  afterward  lightnesse 
I  saw  a  lyte — unnethe  hit  might  be  lesse — 
And  on  a  bed  of  gold  she  lay  to  reste 
Til  that  the  hote  sonne  gan  to  weste. 

Hir  gilte  heres  with  a  golden  threed 
Y-bounden  were,  untressed  as  she  lay, 
And  naked  fro  the  breest  unto  the  heed 
Men  mighte  hir  see;  and  sothly  for  to  say, 
The  remenant  wel  kevered  to  my  pay 
Right  with  a  subtil  kerchef  of  Valence, 
Ther  was  no  thikker  cloth  of  no  defence. 

Sk.  239-273 


274-308         THE   PARLEMENT   OF   FOULES  87 

The  place  yaf  a  thousand  savours  swote, 
And  Bachus,  god  of  wyn,  sat  hir  besyde, 
And  Ceres  next,  that  doth  of  hunger  bote; 
And,  as  I  seide,  amiddes  lay  Cipryde, 
To  whom  on  knees  two  yonge  f olkes  cryde 
To  ben  hir  help.    But  thus  I  leet  hir  lye, 
And  ferther  in  the  temple  I  gan  espye 

That  in  dispyt  of  Diane  the  chaste 

Ful  many  a  bowe  y-broke  heng  on  the  wal 

Of  maydens,  such  as  gunne  hir  tymes  waste 

In  hir  servyse;  and  peynted  over  al 

Of  many  a  storye,  of  which  I  touche  shal 

A  fewe,  as  of  Calixte  and  Athalaunte, 

And  many  a  mayde,  of  which  the  name  I  wante. 

Semyramus,  Candace,  and  Ercules, 
Biblis,  Dido,  Tisbe  and  Piramus, 
Tristram,  Isoude,  Paris,  and  Achilles, 
Eleyne,  Cleopatre,  and  Troilus, 
Silla,  and  eek  the  moder  of  Romulus — 
Alle  these  were  peynted  on  that  other  syde, 
And  al  hir  love,  and  in  what  plyt  they  dyde. 

Whan  I  was  come  ayen  into  the  place 
That  I  of  spak,  that  was  so  swote  and  grene, 
Forth  welk  I  tho,  my-selven  to  solace. 
Tho  was  I  war  wher  that  ther  sat  a  quene 
That,  as  of  light  the  somer-sonne  shene 
Passeth  the  sterre,  right  so  over  mesure 
She  fairer  was  than  any  creature. 

And  in  this  launde,  upon  an  hil  of  floures, 
Was  set  this  noble  goddesse  Nature. 
Of  braunches  were  hir  halles  and  hir  boures 
Y-wrought  after  hir  craft  and  hir  mesure. 
Ne  ther  nas  foul  that  cometh  of  engendrure 
That  they  ne  were  prest  in  hir  presence 
To  take  hir  doom  and  yeve  hir  audience. 

Sk. 274-308 


88  CHAUCER 


309-343 


For  this  was  on  Seynt  Valentynes  day, 

Whan  every  foul  cometh  ther  to  chese  his  make, 

Of  every  kinde  that  men  thenke  may. 

And  that  so  huge  a  noyse  gan  they  make 

That  erthe  and  see,  and  tree  and  every  lake, 

So  ful  was  that  unnethe  was  ther  space 

For  me  to  stonde:  so  ful  was  al  the  place. 

And  right  as  Aleyn  in  the  Pleynte  of  Kinde 

Devyseth  Nature  of  aray  and  face, 

In  swich  aray  men  mighten  hir  ther  finde. 

This  noble  emperesse  ful  of  grace 

Bad  every  foul  to  take  his  owne  place 

As  they  were  wont  alwey  fro  veer  to  yere 

Seynt  Valentynes  day  to  stonden  there. 

That  is  to  sey ,  the-  f oules  of  ravyne 
Were  hyest  set;  and  than  the  f  oules  smale, 
That  eten  as  hem  nature  wolde  enclyne, 
As  worm  or  thing  of  which  I  telle  no  tale; 
But  water-foul  sat  lowest  in  the  dale; 
And  foul  that  liveth  by  seed  sat  on  the  grene, 
And  that  so  fele  that  wonder  was  to  sene. 

Ther  mighte  men  the  royal  egle  finde, 

That  with  his  sharpe  look  perceth  the  sonne; 

And  other  egles  of  a  lower  kinde, 

Of  which  that  clerkes  wel  devysen  conne. 

Ther  was  the  tyraunt  with  his  fethres  donne 

And  greye,  I  mene  the  goshauk,  that  doth  pyne 

To  briddes  for  his  outrageous  ravyne. 

The  gentil  faucon,  that  with  his  feet  distreyneth 
The  kinges  hond ;  the  hardy  sperhauk  eke, 
The  quayles  foo;  the  merlion  tnat  peyneth 
Him-self  ful  ofte  the  larke  for  to  seke; 
Ther  was  the  douve,  with  hir  eyen  meke; 
The  lalous  swan,  ayens  his  deth  that  singe th; 
The  oule  eek,  that  of  deth  the  bode  bringeth; 

Sk.  309-343 


344-378         THE   PARLEMENT   OF   FOULES  89 

The  cran  the  geaunt,  with  his  trompes  soun; 
The  theef,  the  chogh;  and  eek  the  langling  pye; 
The  scorning  lay;  the  eles  foo,  the  heroun; 
The  false  lapwing,  ful  of  trecherye; 
The  stare,  that  the  counseyl  can  bewrye; 
The  tame  ruddok;  and  the  coward  kyte; 
The  cok,  that  orloge  is  of  thorpes  lyte; 

The  sparwe,  Venus  sone;  the  nightingale, 
That  clepeth  forth  the  fresshe  leves  newe; 
The  swalwe,  mordrer  of  the  flyes  smale 
That  maken  hony  of  floures  fresshe  of  hewe; 
The  wedded  turtel,  with  hir  herte  trewe; 
The  pekok,  with  his  aungels  fethres  brighte; 
The  fesaunt,  scorner  of  the  cok  by  nighte; 

The  waker  goos;  the  cokkow  evere  unkinde; 

The  popiniay,  ful  of  delicasye; 

The  drake,  stroyer  of  his  owne  kinde; 

The  stork,  the  wreker  of  avouterye; 

The  hote  cormeraunt  of  glotonye; 

The  raven  wys,  the  crowe  with  vois  of  care; 

The  throstel  old;  the  frosty  feldefare. 

What  shulde  I  seyn?  of  foules  every  kinde 
That  in  this  world  han  fethres  and  stature 
Men  mighten  in  that  place  assembled  finde 
Before  the  noble  goddesse  Nature. 
And  everich  of  hem  did  his  besy  cure 
Benignely  to  chese  or  for  to  take 
By  hir  acord  his  formel  or  his  make. 

But  to  the  poynt: — Nature  held  on  hir  hond 

A  formel  egle,  of  shap  the  gentileste 

That  evere  she  among  hir  werkes  fond, 

The  most  benigne  and  the  goodlieste. 

In  hir  was  every  vertu  at  his  reste, 

So  ferforth  that  Nature  hir-self  had  blisse 

To  loke  on  hir  and  of  te  hir  bek  to  kisse. 

Sk. 344-378 


90  CHAUCER 


379-413 


Nature,  the  vicair  of  thalmyghty  Lord, 

That  hoot,  cold,  hevy,  light,  and  moiste,  and  dreye 

Hath  knit  by  even  noumbre  of  acord, 

In  esy  vois  began  to  speke  and  seye, 

"  Foules,  tak  hede  of  my  sentence,  I  preye, 

And  for  your  ese,  in  furthering  of  your  nede, 

As  faste  as  I  may  speke  I  wol  me  spede. 

"  Ye  know  wel  how,  Seynt  Valentynes  day, 
By  my  statut  and  through  my  governaunce, 
Ye  come  for  to  chese — and  flee  your  way — 
Your  makes  as  I  prik  vow  with  plesaunce. 
But  natheles  my  rightful  ordenaunce 
May  I  not  lete,  for  al  this  world  to  winne, 
That  he  that  most  is  worthy  shal  beginne. 

"The  tercel  egle,  as  that  ye  knowen  wel, 

The  foul  royal  above  yow  in  degree, 

The  wyse  and  worthy,  secree,  trewe  as  stel, 

The  which  I  formed  have,  as  ye  may  see, 

In  every  part  as  hit  best  lyketh  me — 

Hit  nedeth  noght  his  shap  yow  to  devyse— 

He  shal  first  chese  and  speken  in  his  gyse. 

"And  after  him  by  ordre  shul  ye  chese, 
After  your  kinde,  everich  as  yow  lyketh, 
And  as  your  hap  is  shul  ye  winne  or  lese. 
But  which  of  yow  that  love  most  entryketh, 
God  sende  him  hir  that  sorest  for  him  syketh." 
And  therwith-al  the  tercel  gan  she  calle, 
And  seyde,  "My  sone,  the  choys  is  to  thee  falle. 

"But  natheles  in  this  condicioun 

Mot  be  the  choys  of  everich  that  is  here: 

That  she  agree  to  his  eleccioun, 

Who-so  he  be  that  shulde  been  hir  fere. 

This  is  our  usage  alwey  fro  yeer  to  yere. 

And  who  so  may  at  this  time  have  his  grace, 

In  blisful  tyme  he  com  in- to  this  place." 

Sk. 379-413 


414-448         THE    PARLEMENT   OF    FOULES  91 

With  bed  enclyned  and  with  ful  humble  chere 
This  royal  tercel  spak  and  taried  nought: 
"Unto  my  sovereyn  lady,  and  noght  my  fere, 
I  chese,  and  chese  with  wille  and  herte  and  thought, 
The  formel  on  your  hond  so  wel  y- wrought, 
Whos  I  am  al  and  evere  wol  hir  serve, 
Do  what  hir  list  to  do  me  live  or  sterve. 

"Beseching  hir  of  mercy  and  of  grace, 

As  she  that  is  my  lady  sovereyne, 

Or  let  me  dye  present  in  this  place. 

For  certes,  longe  may  I  not  live  in  peyne; 

For  in  myn  herte  is  corven  every  veyne. 

Having  reward  only  to  my  trouthe, 

My  dere  herte,  have  on  my  wo  som  routhe. 

"And  if  that  I  to  hir  be  founde  untrewe, 
Disobeysaunt,  or  wilful  negligent, 
Avauntour,  or  in  proces  love  a  newe, 
I  pray  to  yow  this  be  my  lugement, 
That  with  these  foules  I  be  al  to-rent 
That  ilke  day  that  evere  she  me  finde 
To  hir  untrewe  or  in  my  gilt  unkinde. 

"And  sin  that  noon  loveth  hir  so  wel  as  I, 
Al  be  she  nevere  of  love  me  behette, 
Than  oghte  she  be  myn  thourgh  hir  mercy, 
For  other  bond  can  I  noon  on  hir  knette. 
For  nevere  for  no  wo  ne  shal  I  lette 
To  serven  hir,  how  fer  so  that  she  wende. 
Sey  what  yow  list,  my  tale  is  at  an  ende." 

Right  as  the  fresshe,  rede  rose  newe 

Ayen  the  somer-sonne  coloured  is, 

Right  so  for  shame  al  wexen  gan  the  hewe 

Of  this  formel  whan  she  herde  al  this. 

She  neyther  answerde  "wel,"  ne  seyde  amis; 

So  sore  abasshed  was  she  til  that  Nature 

Seyde,  "Doghter,  drede  yow  noght,  I  yow  assure!" 

Sk. 414-448 


92  CHAUCER  449-483 

Another  tercel  egle  spak  anoon 

Of  lower  kinde,  and  seyde,  "That  shal  not  be. 

I  love  hir  bet  than  ye  do,  by  Seynt  lohn ! — 

Or  atte  leste  I  love  hir  as  wel  as  ye, 

And  lenger  have  served  hir  in  my  degree. 

And  if  she  shulde  have  loved  for  long  lovinge, 

To  me  allone  had  been  the  guerdoninge. 

"  I  dar  eek  seye,  if  she  me  finde  f  als, 
Unkinde,  Tangier,  or  rebel  any  wyse, 
Or  lalous,  do  me  hongen  by  the  hals! 
And  but  I  bere  me  in  hir  servyse 
As  wel  as  that  my  wit  can  me  surly se, 
Fro  poynt  to  poynt  hir  honour  for  to  save, 
Take  she  my  lyf  and  al  the  good  I  have." 

The  thridde  tercel  egle  answerde  tho : 
"Now,  sirs,  ye  seen  the  litel  leyser  here! 
For  every  foul  cryeth  oute  to  been  a-go 
Forth  with  his  make  or  with  his  lady  dere; 
And  eek  Nature  hir-self  ne  wol  nought  here, 
For  tarying  heer,  noght  half  that  I  wolde  seye. 
And  but  I  speke,  I  mot  for  sorwe  deye. 

"Of  longe  servyse  avaunte  I  me  no- thing; 
But  as  possible  is  me  to  dye  to-day 
For  wo,  as  he  that  hath  ben  languisshing 
This§  twenty  winter,  and  wel  happen  may 
A  man  may  serven  bet  and  more  to  pay 
In  half  a  yeer,  al-though  hit  were  no  more, 
Than  som  man  doth  that  hath  served  ful  yore. 

"I  ne  say  not  this  by  me,  for  I  ne  can 
Do  no  servyse  that  may  my  lady  plese; 
But  I  dar  seyn  I  am  hir  trewest  man 
As  to  my  doom,  and  feynest  wolde  hir  ese. 
At  shorte  wordes,  til  that  deth  me  sese 
I  wol  ben  hires  whether  I  wake  or  winke 
And  trewe  in  al  that  herte  may  bethinke." 

Sk.  449-483 


484-518         THE   PARLEMENT   OF   FOULES  93 

Of  al  my  lyf  sin  that  day  I  was  born 
So  gentil  plee  in  love  or  other  thing 
Ne  herde  nevere  no  man  me  beforn, 
Who  that  hadde  leyser  and  cunning 
For  to  reherse  hir  chere  and  hir  speking. 
And  from  the  morwe  gan  this  speche  laste 
Til  dounward  drow  the  sonne  wonder  faste. 

The  noyse  of  foules  for  to  ben  delivered 

So  loude  rong,  "Have  doon  and  let  us  wende!" 

That  wel  wende  I  the  wode  had  al  to- shivered. 

"Come  of!"  they  cryde,  "alias!  ye  wil  us  shende! 

Whan  shal  your  cursed  pleding  have  an  ende? 

How  shulde  a  luge  eyther  party  leve, 

For  yee  or  nay,  with-outen  any  preve?" 

The  goos,  the  cokkow,  and  the  doke  also 

So    cryden    "Kek,    kek!"  "Kukkow!"  "Quek, 

quek!"  hye, 

That  thorgh  myn  eres  the  noyse  wente  tho. 
The  goos  seyde,  "Al  this  nis  not  worth  a  flye! 
But  I  can  shape  hereof  a  remedy e, 
And  I  wol  sey  my  verdit  faire  and  swythe 
For  water-foul,  who-so  be  wrooth  or  blythe." 

"And  I  for  worm-foul,"  seyde  the  fool  cokkow, 

"For  I  wol  of  myn  owne  auctorite 

For  comune  speed  take  the  charge  now, 

For  to  delivere  us  is  gret  charite." 

"Ye  may  abyde  a  whyle  yet,  parde!" 

Seyde  the  turtel,  "if  hit  be  your  wille 

A  wight  may  speke,  him  were  as  good  be  stille. 

"I  am  a  seed-foul,  oon  the  unworthieste, 
That  wot  I  wel,  and  litel  of  kunninge. 
But  bet  is  that  a  wightes  tonge  reste 
Than  entremeten  him  of  such  doinge 
Of  which  he  neyther  rede  can  nor  singe. 
And  who-so  doth,  ful  foule  himself  acloyeth, 
For  office  uncommitted  ofte  anoyeth." 

Sk.  484-518 


94  CHAUCER 


519-553 


Nature,  which  that  alway  had  an  ere 

To  murmour  of  the  lewednesse  behinde, 

With  facound  voys  seide,  "Hold  your  tonges  there! 

And  I  shal  sone,  I  hope,  a  counseyl  finde 

Yow  to  delivere  and  fro  this  noyse  unbinde. 

I  luge,  of  every  folk  men  shal  oon  calle 

To  seyn  the  verdit  for  yow  foules  alle." 

Assented  were  to  this  conclusioun 
The  briddes  alle.    And  foules  of  ravyne 
Han  chosen  first  by  pleyn  eleccioun 
The  tercelet  of  the  faucon  to  diffyne 
Al  hir  sentence,  and  as  him  list,  termyne; 
And  to  Nature  him  gonnen  to  presente, 
And  she  accepteth  him  with  glad  entente. 

The  tercelet  seide  than  in  this  manere: 
"Ful  hard  were  hit  to  preve  hit  by  resoun 
Who  loveth  best  this  gen  til  formel  here; 
For  everich  hath  swich  replicacioun 
That  noon  by  skilles  may  be  broght  a-doun. 
I  can  not  seen  that  arguments  avayle: 
Than  semeth  hit  ther  moste  be  batayle." 

"Al  redy!"  quod  these  egles  tercels  tho. 
"Nay,  sirs!"  quod  he,  "if  that  I  dorste  hit  seye, 
Ye  doon  me  wrong.    My  tale  is  not  y-do! 
For  sirs,  ne  taketh  noght  a-gref,  I  preye: 
It  may  noght  gon  as  ye  wolde  in  this  weye. 
Our  is  the  voys  that  han  the  charge  in  honde, 
And  to  the  luges  doom  ye  moten  stonde. 

"And  therfore  pees!  I  seye,  as  to  my  wit, 
Me  wolde  thinke  how  that  the  worthieste 
Of  knighthode,  and  lengest  bath  used  hit, 
Moste  of  estat,  of  blood  the  gentileste, 
Were  sittingest  for  hir,  if  that  hir  leste; 
And  of  these  three  she  wot  hir-self,  I  trowe, 
Which  that  he  be,  for  hit  is  light  to  knowe." 

Sk.  519-553 


554-588         THE   PARLEMENT   OF   FOULES  95 

The  water-foules  ban  her  hedes  leyd 

Togeder,  and  of  short  avysement 

Whan  everich  had  his  large  golee  seyd, 

They  seyden  sothly  al  by  oon  assent 

How  that  "  the  goos  with  hir  facounde  gent 

That  so  desyreth  to  pronounce  our  nede 

Shal  telle  our  tale,"  and  preyde  "  God  hir  spede." 

And  for  these  water-foules  tho  began 
The  goos  to  speken,  and  in  hir  cakelinge 
She  seyde,  "  Pees!  now  tak  keep,  every  man, 
And  herkeneth  which  a  reson  I  shal  bringe. 
My  wit  is  sharp,  I  love  no  taryinge. 
I  seye,  I  rede  him  though  he  were  my  brother 
But  she  wol  love  him  lat  him  love  another!" 

"Lo  heer!  a  parfit  reson  of  a  goos!" 

Quod  the  sperhauk.    "Nevere  mot  she  thee! 

Lo,  swich  hit  is  to  have  a  tonge  loos! 

Now  parde,  fool,  yet  were  hit  bet  for  thee 

Have  holde  thy  pees  than  shewed  thy  nycete! 

Hit  lyth  not  in  his  wit  nor  in  his  wille, 

But  sooth  is  seyd,  'A  fool  can  noght  be  stille.'" 

The  laughter  aroos  of  gentil  foules  alle, 
And  right  anoon  the  seed-foul  chosen  hadde 
The  turtel  trewe,  and  gunne  hir  to  hem  calle, 
And  preyden  hir  to  seye  the  sothe  sadde 
Of  this  matere,  and  asked  what  she  radde. 
And  she  answerde  that  pleynly  hir  entente 
She  wolde  shewe  and  sothly  what  she  mente. 

"Nay,  God  forbede  a  lover  shulde  chaunge!" 
The  turtel  seyde,  and  wex  for  shame  al  reed. 
"Thogh  that  his  lady  evere-more  be  straunge, 
Yet  let  him  serve  hir  evere  til  he  be  deed. 
For  sothe,  I  preyse  noght  the  gooses  reed; 
For  thogh  she  deyed,  I  wolde  non  other  make, — 
I  wol  ben  hires  til  that  the  deth  me  take." 

Sk. 554-588 


96  CHAUCER  58^23 

"Wei  bourded!"  quod  the  doke,  "  by  my  hat! 

That  men  shulde  alwey  loven  causeles, 

Who  can  a  reson  finde  or  wit  in  that? 

Daunceth  he  murye  that  is  mirtheles? 

Who  shulde  recche  of  that  is  reccheles? 

Ye,  quek!"  yit  quod  the  doke  ful  wel  and  faire, 

"Ther  been  mo  sterres,  God  wot,  than  a  paire!" 

"Now  fy,  cherl!"  quod  the  gentil  tercelet. 
"Out  of  the  dunghil  com  that  word  ful  right. 
Thou  canst  noght  see  which  thing  is  wel  be-set. 
Thou  farest  by  love  as  oules  doon  by  light; 
The  day  hem  blent,  ful  wel  they  see  by  night. 
Thy  kinde  is  of  so  lowe  a  wrechednesse 
That  what  love  is  thou  canst  nat  see  ne  gesse." 

Tho  gan  the  cokkow  putte  him  forth  in  prees 
For  foul  that  eteth  worm,  and  seide  blyve, 
"So  I,"  quod  he,  "may  have  my  make  in  pees, 
I  recche  not  how  longe  that  ye  stryve. 
Lat  ech  of  hem  be  soleyn  al  hir  lyve, 
This  is  my  reed  sin  they  may  not  acorde. 
This  shorte  lesson  nedeth  noght  recorde.'' 

"Ye!  have  the  glotoun  fild  ynogh  his  paunche, 

Than  are  we  wel!"  seyde  the  merlioun; 

"  Thou  mordrer  of  the  heysugge  on  the  braunche 

That  broghte  thee  forth,  thou  rewthelees  glotoun! 

Live  thou  soleyn,  wormes  corrupcioun! 

For  no  fors  is  of  lakke  of  thy  nature. 

Go,  lewed  be  thou,  whyl  the  world  may  dure!" 

"Now  pees,"  quod  Nature,  "I  comaunde  heer! 

For  I  have  herd  al  your  opinoun, 

And  in  effect  yet  be  we  nevere  the  neer. 

But  fynally,  this  is  my  conclusioun : 

That  she  hir-self  shal  han  the  eleccioun 

Of  whom  hir  list,  who-so  be  wrooth  or  blythe; 

Hun  that  she  cheest,  he  shal  hir  have  as  swythe. 

Sk. 589-623 


624-658         THE   PARLEMENT  OF   FOULES  97 

"For  sith  hit  may  not  heer  discussed  be 
Who  loveth  hir  best,  as  seide  the  tercelet, 
Than  wol  I  doon  hir  this  favour,  that  she 
Shal  have  right  him  on  whom  hir  herte  is  set, 
And  he  hir  that  his  herte  hath  on  hir  knet. 
This  luge  I,  Nature,  for  I  may  not  lye. 
To  noon  estat  I  have  non  other  ye. 

"But  as  for  counseyl  for  to  chese  a  make, 

If  hit  were  reson,  certes,  than  wolde  I 

Counseyle  yow  the  royal  tercel  take, 

As  seide  the  tercelet  ful  skilfully, 

As  for  the  gentilest  and  most  worthy 

Which  I  have  wroght  so  wel  to  my  plesaunce. 

That  to  yow  oghte  been  a  suffisaunce." 

With  dredful  vois  the  formel  hir  answerde, 
"My  rightful  lady,  Goddesse  of  Nature, 
Soth  is  that  I  am  evere  under  your  yerde 
Lyk  as  is  everich  other  creature, 
And  moot  be  youres  whyl  my  lyf  may  dure. 
And  therfore  graunteth  me  my  firste  bone, 
And  myn  entente  I  wol  yow  sey  right  sone." 

"I  graunte  hit  yow,"  quod  she.    And  right  anoon 

This  formel  egle  spak  in  this  degree: 

"Almighty  quene,  unto  this  yeer  be  doon 

I  aske  respit  for  to  avysen  me. 

And  after  that  to  have  my  choys  al  free. 

This  al  and  som  that  I  wolde  speke  and  seye; 

Ye  gete  no  more,  al- though  ye  do  me  deye. 

"I  wol  noght  serven  Venus  ne  Cupyde 
For  so  the  as  yet,  by  no  manere  weye." 
"Now  sin  hit  may  non  other  wyse  betyde," 
Quod  tho  Nature,  "  heer  is  no  more  to  seye, 
Than  wolde  I  that  these  foules  were  aweye 
Ech  with  his  make,  for  tarying  lenger  here" — 
And  seyde  hem  thus  as  ye  shul  after  here. 

Sk.  624-658 


98  CHAUCER  659-692 

"To  vow  speke  I,  ye  tercelets,"  quod  Nature. 
"Beth  of  good  herte  and  serveth,  alle  three. 
A  yeer  is  not  so  longe  to  endure, 
And  ech  of  yow  peyne  him,  in  his  degree, 
For  to  do  wel;  for,  God  wot,  quit  is  she 
Fro  yow  this  yeer,  what  after  so  befalle. 
This  entremes  is  dressed  for  yow  alle." 

And  whan  this  werk  al  broght  was  to  an  ende, 
To  every  foul  Nature  yaf  his  make 
By  even  acord,  and  on  hir  wey  they  wende. 
A !  Lord !  the  blisse  and  loye  that  they  make ! 
For  ech  of  hem  gan  other  in  winges  take, 
And  with  hir  nekkes  ech  gan  other  winde, 
Thanking  alwey  the  noble  goddesse  of  kinde. 

But  first  were  chosen  foules  for  to  singe, 
As  yeer  by  yere  wras  alwey  hir  usaunce 
To  singe  a  roundel  at  hir  departinge 
To  do  Nature  honour  and  plesaunce. 
The  note,  I  trowe,  maked  \vas  in  Fraunce; 
The  wordes  were  swich  as  ye  may  heer  finde, 
The  nexte  vers  as  I  now  have  in  minde. 

Qui  bien  aime  a  tard  oublie. 
"Now  welcome  somer  with  thy  sonne  softe, 
That  hast  this  wintres  weders  over-shake, 
And  driven  awey  the  longe  nightes  blake! 

"  Seynt  Valentyn,  that  art  ful  hy  on-lofte: — 
Thus  sungen  smale  foules  for  thy  sake — • 
Now  welcom  somer  with  thy  sonne  softe, 
That  hast  this  wintres  weders  over-shake. 

"Wel  han  they  cause  for  to  gladen  ofte, 
Sith  ech  of  hem  recovered  hath  his  make; 
Ful  blisful  may  they  singen  whan  they  wake; 
Now  welcom  somer  with  thy  sonne  softe, 
That  hast  this  wintres  weders  over-shake, 
And  driven  awey  the  longe  nightes  blake"          4 

Sk.  659- 692 


693-699         THE   PARLEMENT   OF   FOULES  99 

And  with  the  showting  whan  hir  song  was  do 

That  foules  maden  at  hir  flight  a- way, 

I  wook,  and  other  bokes  took  me  to 

To  rede  upon,  and  yet  I  rede  alway. 

I  hope,  y-wis,  to  rede  so  som  day 

That  I  shal  mete  som  thing  for  to  fare 

The  bet,  and  thus  to  rede  I  nil  not  spare. 

Explicit  tractatus  de  congregacione  Volucrum 
die  sancti  Valentini. 

Sk.  693-699 


TROILUS  AND  CRISEYDE 

BOOK  I 

The  double  sorwe  of  Troilus  to  tellen, 
That  was  the  King  Priamus  sone  of  Troye, 
In  loving,  how  his  aventures  fellen 
Fro  wo  to  wele,  and  after  out  of  loye, 
My  purpos  is  er  that  I  parte  fro  ye. 
Thesiphone,  thou  help  me  for  tendyte 
Thise  woful  vers  that  wepen  as  I  wryte! 

To  thee  clepe  I,  thou  goddesse  of  torment, 
Thou  cruel  Furie,  sorwing  evere  in  peyne: 
Help  me,  that  am  the  sorwful  instrument 
That  helpeth  lovers,  as  I  can,  to  pleyne! 
For  wel  sit  it  the  sothe  for  to  seyne, 
A  woful  wight  to  han  a  drery  fere, 
And  to  a  sorwful  tale  a  sory  chere. 

It  is  wel  wist  how  that  the  Grekes  stronge 
In  armes  with  a  thousand  shippes  wente 
To  Troyewardes,  and  the  citee  longe 
Assegeden  neigh  ten  yeer  er  they  stente; 
And  in  diverse  wyse  and  oon  entente 
The  ravisshing  to  wreken  of  Eleyne, 
By  Paris  doon,  they  wroughten  al  hir  peyne. 

Now  fil  hit  so  that  in  the  toun  ther  was 
Dwelling  a  lord  of  greet  auctoritee, 
A  gret  devyn  that  cleped  was  Calkas, 
That  in  science  so  expert  was  that  he 
Knew  wel  that  Troye  sholde  destroyed  be, 
By  answere  of  his  god,  that  highte  thus, 
Daun  Phebus  or  Apollo  Delphicus. 

Sk.,  I,  1-14;  57-70 


1,29-63  TROILUS  AND   CRLSEYDE  101 


So  whan  this  Calkas  knew  by- calculi  age, 
And  eek  by  answere  of  this  AppoJlo, 
That  Grekes  sholden  swich  a  peple  bringe 
Thorugh  which  that  Troye  moste  been  for-do, 
He  caste  anoon  out  of  the  toun  to  go. 
For  wel  wiste  he  by  sort  that  Troye  sholde 
Destroyed  been,  ye!  wolde  who-so  nolde. 

For  which  for  to  departen  sof tely 
Took  purpos  ful  this  forknowinge  wyse, 
And  to  the  Grekes  ost  ful  prively 
He  stal  anoon;  and  they  in  curte^s  wyse 
Him  deden  bothe  worship  and  servyse 
In  trust  that  he  hath  conning  hem  to  rede 
In  every  peril  which  that  is  to  drede. 

The  noyse  up  roos  whan  it  was  first  aspyed 
Thorugh  al  the  toun,  and  generally  was  spoken 
That  Calkas  tray  tor  fled  was,  and  allyed 
With  hem  of  Grece;  and  casten  to  ben  wroken 
On  hem  that  falsly  had  his  feith  so  broken; 
And  seyden  he  and  al  his  kin  at  ones 
Ben  worthy  for  to  brennen,  fel  and  bones. 

Now  hadde  Calkas  left  in  this  meschaunce 

Al  unwist  of  this  fals  and  wikked  dede 

His  doughter,  which  that  was  in  gret  penaunce, 

For  of  hir  lyf  she  was  ful  sore  in  drede, 

As  she  that  niste  what  was  best  to  rede : 

For  bothe  a  widowe  was  she  and  allone 

Of  any  freend  to  whom  she  durste  hir  mone. 

Criseyde  was  this  lady  name  a-right. 

As  to  my  doom,  in  al  Troyes  citee 

Nas  noon  so  fair;  for  passing  every  wight 

So  aungellyk  was  hir  natyf  beautee 

That  lyk  a  thing  inmortal  semed  she, 

As  doth  an  hevenish  parfit  creature 

That  doun  were  sent  in  scorning  of  nature. 

Sk.,  I,  71-105 


102  CHAUCER  i,  64-98 

This  Jady,  which  that  al-day  herde  at  ere 
Hir  fadres  shame,  his  falsnesse,  and  tresoun, 
Wei  nigh  out  of  hir  wit  for  sorwe  and  fere, 
In  widewes  habit  large  of  samit  broun, 
On  knees  she  fil  biforn  Ector  a-doun; 
With  pitous  voys  and  tend  rely  wepinge 
His  mercy  bad,  hir-selven  excusinge. 

Now  was  this  Ector  pitous  of  nature, 

And  saw  that  she  was  sorwfully  bigoon 

And  that  she  was  so  fair  a  creature. 

Of  his  goodnesse  he  gladed  hir  anoon, 

And  seyde,  "Lat  your  fadres  treson  goon 

Forth  with  mischaunce!  and  ye  your-self  in  loye 

Dwelleth  with  us,  whyl  you  good  list,  in  Troye. 

"And  al  thonour  that  men  may  doon  yow  have, 
As  ferforth  as  your  fader  dwelled  here, 
Ye  shul  han  and  your  body  shal  men  save 
As  fer  as  I  may  ought  enquere  or  here." 
And  she  him  thonked  with  ful  humble  chere, 
And  ofter  wolde  and  it  had  ben  his  wille, 
And  took  hir  leve,  and  hoom,  and  held  hir  stille. 

And  so  bifel  whan  comen  was  the  tyme 
Of  Aperil,  whan  clothed  is  the  mede 
With  newe  grene,  of  lusty  Ver  the  pryme, 
And  swote  smellen  floures  whyte  and  rede, 
In  sondry  wyses  shewed,  as  I  rede, 
The  f oik  of  Troye  hir  observaunces  olde 
Palladiones  feste  for  to  holde. 

And  to  the  temple  in  al  hir  beste  wyse 
In  general  ther  wente  many  a  wight 
To  herknen  of  Palladion  the  servyse. 
And  namely  so  many  a  lusty  knight, 
So  many  a  lady  freshe  and  mayden  bright, 
Ful  wel  arayed  bothe  moste  and  leste, 
Ye,  bothe  for  the  seson  and  the  feste. 

Sk.,I,  106-126;  155-168 


1,99-133  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  103 

Among  thise  othere  folk  was  Criseyda 
In  widewes  habit  blak;  but  nathelees 
Right  as  our  firste  lettre  is  now  an  A, 
In  beautee  first  so  stood  she  makelees. 
Hir  godly  looking  gladede  al  the  prees. 
Nas  nevere  seyn  thing  to  ben  preysed  derre, 
Nor  under  cloude  blak  so  bright  a  sterre 

As  was  Criseyde  as  folk  seyde  everichoon 

That  hir  bihelden  in  hir  blake  wede; 

And  yet  she  stood  ful  lowe  and  stille  alloon 

Behinden  othere  folk  in  litel  brede 

And  neigh  the  dore,  ay  under  shames  drede, 

Simple  of  atyr  and  debonaire  of  chere, 

With  ful  assured  Joking  and  manere. 

This  Troilus,  as  he  was  wont  to  gyde 

His  yonge  knightes,  ladde  hem  up  and  doun 

In  thilke  large  temple  on  every  syde, 

Biholding  ay  the  ladyes  of  the  toun, 

Now  heer,  now  ther;  for  no  devocioun 

Had  he  to  noon  to  reven  him  his  reste, 

But  gan  to  preyse  and  lakken  whom  him  leste. 

And  in  his  walk  ful  faste  he  gan  to  wayten 

If  knight  or  squyer  of  his  companye 

Gan  for  to  syke,  or  lete  his  eyen  bayten 

On  any  woman  that  he  coude  aspye; 

He  wolde  smyle,  and  holden  it  folye, 

And  seye  him  thus,  "God  wot,  she  slepeth  softe 

For  love  of  thee  whan  thou  tornest  ful  ofte! 

"I  have  herd  told,  pardieux,  of  your  livinge, 

Ye  lovers,  and  your  lewede  observaunces, 

And  which  a  labour  folk  ban  in  winninge 

Of  love,  and  in  the  keping,  which  doutaunces; 

And  whan  your  preye  is  lost,  wo  and  penaunces. 

O  verrey  foles!  nyce  and  blinde  be  ye: 

Ther  nis  not  oon  can  war  by  other  be." 

Sk.,  1, 169-203 


104  CHAUCER  i,i34-i6f 

And  with  that  word  he  gan  cast  up  the  browe, 
Ascaunces,  "Lo!  is  this  nought  wysly  spoken?" 
At  which  the  God  of  Love  gan  loken  rowe 
Right  for  despyt,  and  shoop  for  to  ben  wroken. 
He  kidde  anoon  his  bowe  nas  not  broken; 
For  sudeynly  he  hit  him  at  the  fulle. 
And  yet  as  proud  a  pekok  can  he  pulle! 

With-in  the  temple  he  wente  him  forth  pleyinge, 

This  Troilus,  of  every  wight  aboute, 

On  this  lady  and  now  on  that  lokinge, 

Wher-so  she  were  of  toune  or  of  with-oute. 

And  up-on  cas  bifel  that  thorugh  a  route 

His  eye  perced,  and  so  depe  it  wente 

Til  on  Criseyde  it  smoot,  and  ther  it  stente. 

And  sodeynly  he  wex  ther- with  as  toned, 

And  gan  hire  bet  biholde  in  thrifty  wyse: 

"O  mercy,  God!"  thoughte  he,  "wher  hastow  woned, 

That  art  so  fair  and  goodly  to  devyse?" 

Ther-with  his  herte  gan  to  sprede  and  ryse, 

And  softe  sighed  lest  men  mighte  him  here, 

And  caughte  a-yein  his  firste  pleying  chere. 

She  nas  not  with  the  leste  of  hir  stature, 
But  alle  hir  limes  so  wel  answeringe 
Weren  to  womanhod,  that  creature 
Was  nevere  lasse  mannish  in  seminge. 
And  eek  the  pure  wyse  of  here  mevinge 
Shewede  wel  that  men  mighte  in  hir  gesse 
Honour,  estat,  and  wommanly  noblesse. 

To  Troilus  right  wonder  wel  with-alle 
Gan  for  to  lyke  hir  meving  and  hir  chere, 
Which  somdel  deynous  was,  for  she  leet  falle 
Hir  look  a  lite  a-side  in  swich  manere, 
Ascaunces,  "What!  may  I  not  stonden  here?" 
And  after  that  hir  loking  gan  she  lighte, 
That  nevere  thoughte  him  seen  so  good  a  sighte. 

Sk.,  I,  204-210;  267-294 


1,169-203  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  105 

And  of  hir  look  in  him  ther  gan  to  quiken 

So  greet  desir  and  swich  affeccioun 

That  in  his  hertes  botme  gan  to  stiken 

Of  hir  his  fixe  and  depe  impressioun. 

And  though  he  erst  had  poured  up  and  doun, 

He  was  tho  glad  his  homes  in  to  shrinke. 

Unnethes  wiste  he  how  to  loke  or  winke. 

Lo,  he  that  leet  him-selven  so  konninge 
And  scorned  hem  that  Loves  peynes  dryen, 
Was  ful  unwar  that  Love  had  his  dwellinge 
With-in  the  subtile  stremes  of  hir  yen, 
That  sodeynly  him  thoughte  he  felte  dyen, 
Right  with  hir  look,  the  spirit  in  his  herte. 
Blessed  be  Love  that  thus  can  folk  converte! 

She,  this  in  blak,  lyking  to  Troilus, 
Over  alle  thyng  he  stood  for  to  biholde. 
Ne  his  desir  ne  wherfore  he  stood  thus 
He  neither  chere  made,  ne  word  tolde. 
But  from  a-fer,  his  manere  for  to  holde, 
On  other  thing  his  look  som-tyme  he  caste 
And  eft  on  hir,  whyl  that  servyse  laste. 

And  after  this,  not  fully  al  awhaped, 

Out  of  the  temple  al  esiliche  he  wente, 

Repenting  him  that  he  had  evere  y-iaped 

Of  Loves  folk,  lest  fully  the  descente 

Of  scorn  fille  on  him-self ;  but,  what  he  mente, 

Lest  it  were  wist  on  any  maner  syde, 

His  wo  he  gan  dissimulen  and  hyde. 

Whan  he  was  fro  the  temple  thus  departed, 

He  streyght  anoon  un-to  his  paleys  torneth, 

Right  with  hir  look  thurgh-shoten  and  thurgh-darted, 

Al  feyneth  he  in  lust  that  he  soiorneth. 

And  al  his  chere  and  speche  also  he  borneth; 

And  ay  of  Loves  servants  every  whyle, 

Him-self  to  wrye,  at  hem  he  gan  to  smyle. 

Sk.,  I,  295-329 


106  CHAUCER  1,204-238 

And  seyde,  "Lord,  so  ye  live  al  in  lest, 
Ye  loveres!  for  the  conningest  of  yow, 
That  serveth  most  ententiflich  and  best, 
Him  tit  as  often  harm  ther-of  as  prow. 
Your  hyre  is  quit  ayein,  ye!  God  wot  how! 
Nought  wel  for  wel,  but  scorn  for  good  servyse. 
In  feith  your  ordre  is  ruled  in  good  wyse!" 

But  for  al  this,  whan  that  he  say  his  tyme, 
He  held  his  pees, — non  other  bote  him  gayned. 
For  Love  bigan  his  fetheres  so  to  lyme 
That  wel  unnethe  un-to  his  folk  he  feyned 
That  othere  besye  nedes  him  destrayned. 
For  wo  was  him  that  what  to  doon  he  niste, 
But  bad  his  folk  to  goon  wher  that  hem  liste. 

And  whan  that  he  in  chaumbre  was  allone, 
He  doun  up-on  his  beddes  feet  him  sette, 
And  first  he  gan  to  syke  and  eft  to  grone, 
And  thoughte  ay  on  hir  so  withouten  lette, 
That,  as  he  sat  and  wook,  his  spirit  mette 
That  he  hir  saw  a  temple,  and  al  the  wyse 
Right  of  hir  look,  and  gan  it  newe  avyse. 

Thus  gan  he  make  a  mirour  of  his  minde, 
In  which  he  saugh  al  hoolly  hir  figure. 
And  that  he  wel  coude  in  his  herte  finde, 
It  was  to  him  a  right  good  aventure 
To  love  swich  oon;  and  if  he  did  his  cure 
To  serven  hir,  yet  mighte  he  falle  in  grace, 
Or  elles,  for  oon  of  hir  servaunts  pace. 

Imagininge  that  travaille  nor  grame 
Ne  mighte  for  so  goodly  oon  be  lorn 
As  she,  ne  him  for  his  desir  ne  shame, 
Al  were  it  wist,  but  in  prys  and  up-born 
Of  alle  lovers  wel  more  than  biforn: 
Thus  argumented  he  in  his  ginninge, 
Ful  unavysed  of  his  wo  cominge. 

Sk.,  I,  330-336;  351-378 


1,239-273  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  107 

Thus  took  he  purpos  loves  craft  to  suwe, 
And  though  te  he  wolde  werken  prively, 
First,  to  hyden  his  desyr  in  muwe 
From  every  wight  y-born,  al-outrely, 
But  he  mighte  ought  recovered  be  therby; 
Remembring  him  that  love  to  wyde  y-blowe 
Yelt  bittre  fruyt,  though  swete  seed  be  sowe. 

And  to  the  God  of  Love  thus  seyde  he 

With  pitous  voys,  "O  lord,  now  youres  is 

My  spirit,  which  that  oughte  youres  be. 

You  thanke  I,  lord,  that  han  me  brought  to  this. 

But  whether  goddesse  or  womman,  y-wis, 

She  be,  I  noot,  which  that  ye  do  me  serve; 

But  as  hir  man  I  wol  ay  live  and  sterve. 

"  Ye  stonden  in  hire  eyen  mightily 
As  in  a  place  un-to  your  vertu  digne. 
Wherfore,  lord,  if  my  servyse  or  I 
May  lyke  yow,  so  beth  to  me  benigne. 
For  myn  estat  royal  heer  I  resigne 
In-to  hir  hond,  and  with  ful  humble  chere 
Bicome  hir  man  as  to  my  lady  dere." 

In  him  ne  deyned  sparen  blood  royal 

The  fyr  of  love,  (wher-fro  God  me  blesse!) 

Ne  him  f orbar  in  no  degree,  for  al 

His  vertu  or  his  excellent  prowesse; 

But  held  him  as  his  thral  lowe  in  distresse, 

And  brende  him  so  in  sondry  wyse  ay  newe 

That  sixty  tyme  a  day  he  loste  his  hewe. 

The  sharpe  shoures  felle  of  armes  preve 
That  Ector  or  his  othere  bretheren  diden 
Ne  made  him  only  ther-fore  ones  meve; 
And  yet  was  he,  wher-so  men  wente  or  riden, 
Founde  oon  the  best,  and  lengest  tyme  abiden 
Ther  peril  was,  and  did  eek  such  travayle 
In  armes  that  to  thenke  it  was  mervayle. 

Sk., I, 379-385;  421-441;  470-476 


108  CHAUCER  1,274-303 

But  for  non  hate  he  to  the  Grekes  hadde, 

Ne  also  for  the  rescous  of  the  toun, 

Ne  made  him  thus  in  armes  for  to  madde; 

But  only,  lo,  for  this  conclusioun, 

To  lyken  hir  the  bet  for  his  renoun, 

Fro  day  to  day  in  armes  so  he  spedde 

That  alle  the  Grekes  as  the  deeth  him  dredde. 

And  fro  this  forth  tho  ref te  him  love  his  sleep, 
And  made  his  mete  his  foo;  and  eek  his  sorwe 
Gan  multiplye  that,  who-so  toke  keep, 
It  shewed  in  his  hewe,  bothe  eve  and  morwe. 
Therfore  a  title  he  gan  him  for  to  borwe 
Of  other  syknesse,  lest  of  him  men  wende 
That  the  hote  fyr  of  love  him  brende. 

And  seyde,  he  had  a  fevere  and  ferde  amis; 

But  how  it  was,  certayn,  can  I  not  seye, 

If  that  his  lady  understood  not  this, 

Or  feyned  hir  she  niste,  oon  of  the  tweye. 

But  wel  I  rede  that  by  no  maner  weye 

Ne  semed  it  as  that  she  of  him  roughte, 

Nor  of  his  peyne  or  what-so-evere  he  thoughte. 

But  than  fel  to  this  Troilus  such  wo 

That  he  was  wel  neigh  wood;  for  ay  his  drede 

Was  this,  that  she  som  wight  had  loved  so 

That  nevere  of  him  she  wolde  have  taken  hede, 

For  which  him  thoughte  he  felte  his  herte  blede. 

Ne  of  his  wo  ne  dorste  he  not  biginne 

To  tellen  it,  for  al  this  world  to  winne. 

But  whan  he  had  a  space  fro  his  care, 

Thus  to  him-self  ful  ofte  he  gan  to  pleyne. 

He  sayde,  "O  fool,  now  art  thou  in  the  snare 

That  whilom  lapedest  at  loves  peyne! 

Now  artow  hent,  now  gnaw  thyn  owene  cheyne! 

Thou  were  ay  wont  ech  lover  reprehende 

Of  thing  fro  which  thou  canst  thee  nat  defende!" 

Sk.,  I,  477-511 


1,309-343  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  109 

Thise  wordes  and  ful  manye  an-other  to 

He  spak,  and  called  evere  in  his  compleynte 

Hir  name  for  to  tellen  hir  his  wo, 

Til  neigh  that  he  in  salte  teres  dreynte. 

Al  was  for  nought;  she  herde  nought  his  pleynte. 

And  whan  that  he  bithoughte  on  that  folye, 

A  thousand  fold  his  wo  gan  multiplye. 

Bi-wayling  in  his  chambre  thus  allone, 
A  freend  of  his  that  called  was  Pandare 
Com  ones  in  unwar,  and  herde  him  grone, 
And  sey  his  freend  in  swich  distresse  and  care. 
"Alias!"  quod  he,  "who  causeth  al  this  fare? 
O  mercy,  God!  what  unhap  may  this  mene? 
Han  now  thus  sone  Grekes  maad  yow  lene? 

"Or  hastow  som  remors  of  conscience, 
And  art  now  falle  in  som  devocioun, 
And  waylest  for  thy  sinne  and  thyn  offence, 
And  hast  for  ferde  caught  attricioun? 
God  save  hem  that  bi-seged  han  our  toun 
And  so  can  leye  our  lolyte  on  presse 
And  bringe  our  lusty  folk  to  holinesse!" 

These  wordes  seyde  he  for  the  nones  alle, 

That  with  swich  thing  he  mighte  him  angry  maken, 

And  with  an  angre  don  his  sorwe  falle 

As  for  the  tyme,  and  his  corage  awaken. 

But  wel  he  wiste,  as  fer  as  tonges  spaken, 

Ther  nas  a  man  of  gretter  hardiriesse 

Than  he,  ne  more  desired  worthinesse. 

"What  cas,"  quod  Troilus,  "or  what  aventure 
Hath  gyded  thee  to  sen  my  languisshinge, 
That  am  refus  of  every  creature? 
But  for  the  love  of  God,  at  my  preyinge, 
Go  henne  a- way,  for  certes  my  deyinge 
Wol  thee  disese,  and  I  mot  nedes  deye. 
Therfore  go  wey,  ther  is  no  more  to  seye. 

Sk.,  I,  540-574 


110  CHAUCER  1,344-378 

"But  if  thou  wene  I  be  thus  syk  for  drede, 

It  is  not  so,  and  therfore  scorne  nought. 

Ther  is  a-nother  thing  I  take  of  hede 

Wei  more  than  ought  the  Grekes  han  y-wrought 

Which  cause  is  of  my  deeth  for  sorwe  and  thought. 

But  though  that  I  now  telle  thee  it  ne  leste, 

Be  thou  nought  wrooth:  I  hyde  it  for  the  beste." 

This  Pandare,  that  neigh  malt  for  wo  and  routhe, 
Ful  often  seyde,  "Alias!  what  may  this  be?" 
"Now  freend,"  quod  he,  "if  evere  love  or  trouthe 
Hath  been,  or  is,  bi-twixen  thee  and  me, 
Ne  do  thou  nevere  swich  a  crueltee 
To  hyde  fro  thy  freend  so  greet  a  care. 
Wostow  nought  wel  that  it  am  I,  Pandare? 

"I  wole  parten  with  thee  al  thy  peyne, 

If  it  be  so  I  do  thee  no  comfort, 

As  it  is  freendes  right,  sooth  for  to  seyne, 

To  entreparten  wo  as  glad  desport. 

I  have,  and  shal,  for  trewe  or  fals  report, 

In  wrong  and  right  y-loved  thee  al  my  lyve. 

Hyd  not  thy  wo  fro  me  but  telle  it  blyve." 

Than  gan  this  sorwful  Troilus  to  syke, 
And  seyde  him  thus,  "  God  leve  it  be  my  beste 
To  telle  it  thee!  For  sith  it  may  thee  lyke, 
Yet  wole  I  telle  it  though  myn  herte  breste. 
And  yet  wot  I  thou  mayst  do  me  no  reste. 
But  lest  thow  deme  I  truste  not  to  thee, 
Now  herke,  freend,  for  thus  it  stant  with  me. 

"Love,  a-yeins  the  which  who-so  defendeth 
Him-selven  most,  him  alder-lest  avayleth, 
With  desespeir  so  sorwfully  me  oflendeth 
That  streyght  un-to  the  deeth  myn  herte  sayleth. 
Ther-to  desyr  so  brenningly  me  assayleth 
That  to  ben  slayn  it  were  a  gretter  loye 
To  me  than  king  of  Grece  been  and  Troye! 

Sk.,  1 ,575-609 


1,379-413  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  111 

"Suffiseth  this,  my  fulle  freend  Pandare, 
That  I  have  seyd,  for  now  wostow  my  wo. 
And  for  the  love  of  God,  my  colde  care 
So  hyd  it  wel:  I  tolde  it  nevere  to  mo; 
For  harmes  mighte  folwen,  mo  than  two, 
If  it  were  wist.    But  be  thou  in  gladnesse 
And  lat  me  sterve,  unknowe,  of  my  distresse." 

"How  has  tow  thus  unkindely  and  longe 
Hid  this  fro  me,  thou  fool?"  quod  Pandarus; 
"Paraunter  thou  might  after  swich  oon  longe 
That  myn  avys  anoon  may  helpen  us." 
"This  were  a  wonder  thing,"  quod  Troylus, 
"Thou  coudest  nevere  in  love  thy-selven  wisse; 
How  devel  mays  tow  bringen  me  to  blisse?  " 

"Ye,  Troilus,  now  herke,"  quod  Pandare, 
"Though  I  be  nyce;  it  happeth  ofte  so 
That  oon  that  excesse  doth  ful  yvele  fare 
By  good  counseyl  can  kepe  his  freend  ther-fro. 
I  have  my-self  eek  seyn  a  blind  man  go 
Ther-as  he  fel  that  coude  loke  wyde. 
A  fool  may  eek  a  wys  man  ofte  gyde. 

"A  whets  ton  is  no  kerving  instrument 

And  yet  it  maketh  sharpe  kerving-tolis. 

And  ther  thow  woost  that  I  have  ought  miswent, 

Eschewe  thou  that,  for  swich  thing  to  thee  scole  is: 

Thus  ofte  wyse  men  ben  war  by  folis. 

If  thou  do  so,  thy  wit  is  wel  biwared; 

By  his  contrarie  is  every  thing  declared. 

"  The  wyse  seyth,  '  Wo  him  that  is  allone, 
For,  and  he  falle,  he  hath  noon  help  to  ryse.' 
And  sith  thou  hast  a  felawe,  telle  thy  mone; 
For  this  nis  not,  certeyn,  the  nexte  wyse 
To  winnen  love,  as  techen  us  the  wyse, — 
To  walwe  and  wepe  as  Niobe  the  quene, 
Whos  teres  yet  in  marbel  been  y-sene. 

St., I,  610-637;  694-700 


112  CHAUCER  1,414-448 

"If  God  wole  thou  art  not  agast  of  me 
Lest  I  wolde  of  thy  lady  thee  bigyle, 
Thow  wost  thy-self  whom  that  I  love,  pardee, 
As  I  best  can,  gon  sithen  longe  whyle. 
And  sith  thou  wost  I  do  it  for  no  wyle, 
And  sith  I  am  he  that  thou  tristest  most, 
Telle  me  sumwhat,  sin  al  my  wo  thou  wost." 

Yet  Troilus  for  al  this  no  word  seyde, 
But  longe  he  lay  as  stille  as  he  ded  were. 
And  after  this  with  syking  he  abreyde, 
And  to  Pandarus  voys  he  lente  his  ere, 
And  up  his  eyen  caste  he,  that  in  fere 
Was  Pandarus  lest  that  in  frenesye 
He  sholde  falle,  or  elles  sone  dye: 

And  cryde  "A-wak!"  ful  wonderly  and  sharpe; 

"What?  slombrestow  as  in  a  lytargye? 

Or  artow  lyk  an  asse  to  the  harpe, 

That  hereth  soun  whan  men  the  strenges  plye 

But  in  his  minde  of  that  no  melodye 

May  sinken,  him  to  glade,  for  that  he 

So  dul  is  of  his  bestialitee?  " 

And  with  that  Pandare  of  his  wordes  stente; 
But  Troilus  yet  him  no  word  answerde, 
For-why  to  telle  nas  not  his  entente 
To  nevere  no  man,  for  whom  that  he  so  ferde. 
For  it  is  seyd,  "Man  maketh  ofte  a  yerde 
With  which  the  maker  is  him-self  y-beten 
In  sondry  manere,"  as  thise  wyse  treten, 

And  namely  in  his  counseyl  tellinge 
That  toucheth  love  that  oughte  be  secree; 
For  of  him-self  it  wolde  y-nough  out-springe, 
But-if  that  it  the  bet  governed  be. 
Eek  som-tyme  it  is  craft  to  seme  flee 
Fro  thing  which  in  effect  men  hunte  faste: 
Al  this  gan  Troilus  in  his  herte  caste. 

Sk.,  I,  715-749 


1,449-483  TROiLUS  AND   CRISEYDE  113 

But  nathelees  whan  he  had  herd  him  crye 
"Awak!"  he  gan  to  syke  wonder  sore, 
And  seyde,  "Freend,  though  that  I  stille  lye, 
I  am  not  deef.  Now  pees,  and  crye  no  more! 
For  I  have  herd  thy  wordes  and  thy  lore; 
But  suffre  me  my  mischef  to  biwayle, 
For  thy  proverbes  may  me  nought  avayle. 

"Nor  other  cure  canstow  noon  for  me. 

Eek  I  nil  not  be  cured,  I  wol  deye; 

What  knowe  I  of  the  quene  Niobe? 

Lat  be  thyn  olde  ensaumples,  I  thee  preye!" 

"No,"  quod  tho  Pandarus,  "therfore  I  seye, 

Swich  is  delyt  of  foles  to  biwepe 

Hir  wo,  but  seken  bote  they  ne  kepe. 

"Now  knowe  I  that  ther  reson  in  thee  fayleth. 

But  telle  me  if  I  wiste  what  she  were 

For  whom  that  thee  al  this  misaunter  ayleth? 

Dorstestow  that  I  tolde  hir  in  hir  ere 

Thy  wo,  sith  thou  darst  not  thy-self  for  fere, 

And  hir  bisoughte  on  thee  to  han  som  routhe?" 

"Why,  nay,"  quod  he,  "by  God  and  by  my  trouthe!" 

"What?  not  as  bisily,"  quod  Pandarus, 

"As  though  myn  owene  lyf  lay  on  this  nede?" 

"No,  certes,  brother,"  quod  this  Troilus. 

"And  why?" — "For  that  thou  sholdest  nevere  spede." 

"Wostow  that  wel?"— "Ye,  that  is  out  of  drede," 

Quod  Troilus,  "for  al  that  evere  ye  conne, 

She  nil  to  noon  swich  wrecche  as  I  be  wonne." 

Quod  Pandarus,  "Alias!  what  may  this  be, 
That  thou  despeyred  art  thus  causelees? 
What?  liveth  not  thy  lady?  benedistel 
How  wostow  so  that  thou  art  gracelees? 
Swich  yvel  is  not  alwey  botelees. 
Why,  put  not  impossible  thus  thy  cure, 
Sin  thing  to  come  is  of  te  in  aventure. 

Sk.,  I,  750-784 


114  CHAUCER  1,484-518 

"What  may  she  demen  other  of  thy  deeth, 
If  thou  thus  deye,  and  she  not  why  it  is, 
But  that  for  fere  is  yolden  up  thy  breeth 
For  Grekes  han  biseged  us,  y-wis? 
Lord!  which  a  thank  than  shaltow  han  of  this! 
Thus  wol  she  seyn,  and  al  the  toun  at  ones, 
'The  wrecche  is  deed,  the  devel  have  his  bones!' 

"Thou  mayst  allone  heer  wepe  and  crye  and  knele; 
But  love  a  woman  that  she  woot  it  nought 
And  she  wol  quyte  that  thou  shalt  not  fele. 
Unknowe,  unkist;  and  lost  that  is  un-sought. 
What!  many  a  man  hath  love  ful  dere  y-bought 
Twenty  winter  that  his  lady  wiste, 
That  nevere  yet  his  lady  mouth  he  kiste. 

"What?  shulde  he  therfore  fallen  in  despeyr, 

Or  be  recreaunt  for  his  owene  tene, 

Or  sleen  him-self,  al  be  his  lady  fair? 

Nay,  nay,  but  evere  in  oon  be  fresh  and  grene 

To  serve  and  love  his  dere  hertes  quene, 

And  thenke  it  is  a  guerdoun  hir  to  serve 

A  thousand-fold  more  than  he  can  deserve," 

And  of  that  word  took  hede  Troilus, 
And  thoughte  anoon  what  folye  he  was  inne, 
And  how  that  sooth  him  seyde  Pandarus, 
That  for  to  sleen  him-self  mighte  he  not  winne, 
But  bothe  doon  unmanhod  and  a  sinne, 
And  of  his  deeth  his  lady  nought  to  wyte; 
For  of  his  wo,  God  woot,  she  knew  ful  lyte. 

And  with  that  thought  he  gan  ful  sore  syke, 
And  seyde,  "Alias!  what  is  me  best  to  do?" 
To  whom  Pandare  answerde,  "If  thee  lyke, 
The  best  is  that  thou  telle  me  al  thy  wo; 
And  have  my  trouthe,  but  thou  finde  it  so 
I  be  thy  bote  or  that  it  be  ful  longe, 
To  peces  do  me  drawe  and  sithen  honge!" 

Sk.,  I,  799-833 


1,519-553  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  115 

"Ye,  so  thou  seyst,"  quod  Troilus  tho,  "alias! 
But,  God  wot,  it  is  not  the  rather  so. 
Ful  hard  were  it  to  helpen  in  this  cas, 
For  wel  finde  I  that  Fortune  is  my  fo, 
Ne  alle  the  men  that  ryden  conne  or  go 
May  of  hir  cruel  wheel  the  harm  withstonde; 
For  as  hir  list  she  pleyeth  with  free  and  bonde." 

Quod  Pandarus,  "Than  blamestow  Fortune 
For  thou  art  wrooth,  ye,  now  at  erst  I  see. 
Wostow  nat  wel  that  Fortune  is  commune 
To  every  maner  wight  in  som  degree? 
And  yet  thou  hast  this  comfort,  lo,  pardee! 
That  as  hir  loyes  moten  over-goon, 
So  mote  hir  sorwes  passen  everichoon. 

"For  if  hir  wheel  stinte  any- thing  to  torne, 
Than  cessed  she  Fortune  anoon  to  be: 
Now  sith  hir  wheel  by  no  wey  may  soiorne, 
What  wostow  if  hir  mutabilitee, 
Right  as  thy-selven  list,  wol  doon  by  thee, 
Or  that  she  be  not  fer  fro  thyn  helpinge? 
Paraunter  thou  hast  cause  for  to  singe! 

"And  therfor?  wostow  what  I  thee  beseche? 
Lat  be  thy  wo  and  turning  to  the  grounde; 
For  who-so  list  hav?  helping  of  his  leche,. 
To  him  bihoveth  first  unwrye  his  wounde. 
To  Cerberus  in  helle  ay  be  I  bounde, 
Were  it  for  my  suster  al  thy  sorwe, 
By  my  wille,  she  sholde  al  be  thyn  to-morwe. 

"Loke  up,  I  seye,  and  tell?  me  what  she  is 

Anoon,  that  I  may  goon  aboute  thy  nede. 

Knowe  ich  hir  ought?    For  my  love  tell?  me  this! 

Than  wolde  I  hopen  rather  for  to  spede." 

Tho  gan  the  veyne  of  Troilus  to  blede, 

For  he  was  hit,  and  wex  al  reed  for  shame. 

"A  ha!"  quod  Pandare,  "heer  biginneth  game!" 

Sk.,  I,  834-868 


116  CHAUCER  1,554-588 

And  with  that  word  he  gan  him  for  to  shake, 

And  seyde,  "Theef,  thou  shalt  hir  name  telle!" 

But  tho  gan  sely  Troilus  for  to  quake 

As  though  men  sholde  han  lad  him  in-to  helle, 

And  seyde,  "  Alias!  of  al  my  wo  the  welle, 

Than  is  my  swete  fo  called  Criseyde!" 

And  wel  nigh  with  the  word  for  fere  he  deyde. 

And  whan  that  Pandare  herde  hir  name  nevene, 
Lord!  he  was  glad,  and  seyde,  "Freend  so  dere, 
Now  far  a-right,  for  loves  name  in  hevene! 
Love  hath  biset  the  wel,  be  of  good  chere; 
For  of  good  name  and  wysdom  and  manere 
She  hath  y-nough,  and  eek  of  gentilesse. 
If  she  be  fayr  thow  wost  thy-self ,  I  gesse. 

"Ne  I  nevere  saw  a  more  bountevous 
Of  hir  estat,  ne  a  gladder,  ne  of  speche 
A  freendlier,  ne  a  more  gracious 
For  to  do  wel,  ne  lasse  had  nede  to  seche 
What  for  to  doon;  and  al  this  bet  to  eche 
In  honour,  to  as  fer  as  she  may  strecche, 
A  kinges  herte  semeth  by  hires  a  wrecche. 

"And  for-thy  loke  of  good  comfort  thou  be. 

For  certeinly,  the  firste  poynt  is  this 

Of  noble  corage  and  wel  ordeyne, 

A  man  to  have  pees  with  him-self,  y-wis. 

So  oughtest  thou,  for  nought  but  good  it  is 

To  loven  wel  and  in  a  worthy  place. 

Thee  oughte  not  to  clepe  it  hap,  but  grace. 

"And  also  thenk,  and  ther-with  glade  thee, 
That  sith  thy  lady  vertuous  is  al, 
So  folweth  it  that  ther  is  som  pitee 
Amonges  alle  thise  othere  in  general; 
And  for-thy  see  that  thou  in  special 
Requere  nought  that  is  ayein  hir  name: 
For  vertu  streccheth  not  him-self  to  shame. 

Sk.,  I,  869-903 


1,589-623  TROILUS  AND    CRISEYDE  117 

"But  wel  is  me  that  evere  I  was  born 

That  thou  biset  art  in  so  good  a  place. 

For,  by  my  trouthe,  in  love  I  dorste  have  sworn 

Thee  sholde  nevere  han  tid  thus  fayr  a  grace. 

And  wostow  why?  for  thou  were  \vont  to  chace 

At  Love  in  scorn,  and  for  despyt  him  calle 

'Seynt  Idiot,  lord  of  thise  foles  alle.' 

"How  often  hastow  maad  thy  nyce  Tapes, 
And  seyd  that  Loves  servants  everichone 
Of  nycetee  ben  verray  Goddes  apes; 
And  some  wolde  monche  hir  mete  alone, 
Ligging  a-bedde,  and  make  hem  for  to  grone; 
And  som,  thou  seydest,  had  a  blaunche  f evere, 
And  preydest  God  he  sholde  nevere  kevere! 

"Now  beet  thy  brest,  and  sey  to  God  of  Love, 
'Thy  grace,  lord!    For  now  I  me  repente 
If  I  mis-spak,  for  now  my-self  I  love ! ' — 
Thus  sey  with  al  thyn  herte  in  good  entente." 
Quod  Troilus,  "  A!  lord!  I  me  consente, 
And  pray  to  thee  my  lapes  thou  foryive, 
And  I  shal  never e-more  whyl  I  live." 

"Thou  seyst  wel,"  quod  Pandare,  "and  now  I  hope 
That  thou  the  goddes  wraththe  hast  al  apesed. 
And  sithen  thou  hast  wepen  many  a  drope, 
And  seyd  swich  thing  wher-with  thy  god  is  plesed, 
Now  wolde  nevere  God  but  thou  were  esed. 
And  think  wel  she  of  whom  rist  al  thy  wo 
Heer-after  may  thy  comfort  been  al-so. 

"Wherfore  I  am,  and  wol  be,  ay  redy 
To  peyne  me  to  do  yow  this  servyse. 
For  bothe  yow  to  plese  thus  hope  I 
Her-afterward;  for  ye  beth  bothe  wyse, 
And  conne  it  counseyl  kepe  in  swich  a  wyse 
That  no  man  shal  the  wyser  of  it  be, 
And  so  may  we  be  gladed  alle  three." 

Sk., I,  904-917;  932-945;  988-994 


118  CHAUCER  1,624-658 

Whan  Troilus  had  herd  Pandare  assented 
To  been  his  help  in  loving  of  Criseyde, 
Wex  of  his  wo,  as  who  seyth,  untormented, 
But  hotter  wex  his  love,  and  thus  he  seyde 
With  sobre  chere,  al- though  his  herte  pleyde: 
"Now  blisful  Venus  helpe,  er  that  I  sterve, 
Of  thee,  Pandare,  I  may  som  thank  deserve! 

"But  dere  frend,  how  shal  myn  wo  ben  lesse 
Til  this  be  doon?  and  goode,  eek  telle  me  this: 
How  wiltow  seyn  of  me  and  my  distresse? 
Lest  she  be  wrooth,  this  drede  I  most,  y-wis, 
Or  nil  not  here  or  trowen  how  it  is. 
Al  this  drede  I,  and  eek  for  the  manere 
Of  thee,  hir  eem,  she  nil  no  swich  thing  here." 

Quod  Pandarus,  "Thou  hast  a  ful  gret  care 

Lest  that  the  cherl  may  falle  out  of  the  mone! 

Why,  Lord!  I  hate  of  thee  thy  nyce  fare! 

Why,  entremete  of  that  thou  hast  to  done! 

For  Goddes  love,  I  bidde  thee  a  bone: 

So  lat  me  alone,  and  it  shal  be  thy  beste!" — 

"  Why  freend,"  quod  he,  "  now  do  right  as  thee  leste. 

"But  herke,  Pandare,  o  word,  for  I  nolde 
That  thou  in  me  wendest  so  greet  folye 
That  to  my  lady  I  desiren  sholde 
That  toucheth  harm  or  any  vilenye. 
For  dredelees,  me  were  lever  dye 
Than  she  of  me  ought  elles  understode 
But  that  that  mighte  sounen  in- to  gode." 

Tho  lough  this  Pandare,  and  anoon  answerde, 
"And  I  thy  borwe?  fy!  no  wight  dooth  but  so! 
I  roughte  nought  though  that  she  stode  and  herde 
How  that  thou  seyst;  but  far-wel,  I  wol  go. 
A-dieu!  be  glad!    God  spede  us  bo  the  two! 
Yif  me  this  labour  and  this  besinesse, 
And  of  my  speed  be  thyn  al  that  swetnesse." 

Sk.,  I,  1009-1043 


1,659-693  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  119 

Tho  Troilus  gan  doun  on  knees  to  falle, 

And  Pandare  in  his  armes  hente  faste, 

And  seyde,  "Now  fy  on  the  Grekes  alle! 

Yet,  pardee,  God  shal  helpe  us  at  the  laste. 

And  dredelees,  if  that  my  lyf  may  laste, 

And  God  to-forn,  lo,  some  of  hem  shal  smerte. 

And  yet  me  athinketh  that  this  avaunt  me  asterte! 

"Now,  Pandare,  I  can  no  more  seye, 

But  thou  wys,  thou  wost,  thou  mayst,  thou  art  al! 

My  lyf,  my  deeth,  hool  in  thyn  hond  I  leye. 

Help  now,"  quod  he.    "  Yis,  by  my  trouthe,  I  shal." 

"God  yelde  thee,  freend,  and  this  in  special," 

Quod  Troilus,  "that  thou  me  recomaunde 

To  hir  that  to  the  deeth  me  may  comaunde." 

This  Pandarus  tho,  desirous  to  serve 

His  fulle  freend,  than  seyde  in  this  manere, 

"Far-wel,  and  thenk  I  wol  thy  thank  deserve. 

Have  heer  my  trouthe,  and  that  thou  shalt  wel  here." — 

And  wente  his  wey,  thenking  on  this  matere, 

And  how  he  best  mighte  hir  beseche  of  grace 

And  finde  a  tyme  ther-to  and  a  place. 

For  every  wight  that  hath  an  hous  to  founde 
Ne  renneth  nought  the  werk  for  to  biginne 
With  rakel  hond,  but  he  wol  byde  a  stounde, 
And  sende  his  hertes  lyne  oute  fro  with-inne 
Alderfirst  his  purpos  for  to  wrinne. 
Al  this  Pandare  in  his  herte  thoughte, 
And  caste  his  werk  ful  wysly  or  he  wroughte. 

But  Troilus  lay  tho  no  lenger  doun, 

But  up  anoon  up-on  his  stede  bay, 

And  in  the  feld  he  pleyde  tho  leoun. 

Wo  was  that  Greek  that  with  him  mette  that  day; 

And  in  the  toun  his  manere  tho  forth  ay 

So  goodly  was  and  gat  him  so  in  grace 

That  ech  him  lovede  that  loked  on  his  face. 

Sk.,  I,  1044-1078 


120  CHAUCER  i,®4-707.ii,i-i4 

For  he  bicom  the  frendlyeste  wight, 
The  gentileste,  and  eek  the  moste  free, 
The  thriftieste  and  oon  the  beste  knight, 
That  in  his  tyme  was  or  mighte  be. 
Dede  were  his  lapes  and  his  crueltee, 
His  heighe  port  and  his  manere  estraunge, 
And  ech  of  tho  gan  for  a  vertu  chaunge. 

Now  lat  us  stinte  of  Troilus  a  stounde, 
That  fareth  lyk  a  man  that  hurt  is  sore, 
And  is  somdel  of  aking  of  his  wounde 
Y-lissed  wel,  but  heled  no  del  more; 
And,  as  an  esy  pacient,  the  lore 
Abit  of  him  that  gooth  aboute  his  cure. 
And  thus  he  dryveth  forth  his  aventure. 

Explicit  Liber  Primus. 


BOOK  II 

Incipit  Liber  Secundus 

Out  of  these  blake  wawes  for  to  sayle, 
O  wind,  O  wind,  the  weder  ginneth  clere; 
For  in  this  see  the  boot  hath  swich  travayle, 
Of  my  conning  that  unnethe  I  it  stere: 
This  see  clepe  I  the  tempestous  matere 
Of  desespeyr  that  Troilus  was  inne. 
But  now  of  hope  the  calendes  biginne. 

O  lady  myn,  that  called  art  Cleo, 

Thou  be  my  speed  fro  this  forth,  and  my  muse, 

To  ryme  wel  this  book  til  I  have  do. 

Me  nedeth  heer  noon  other  art  to  use. 

For-why  to  every  lover  I  me  excuse 

That  of  no  sentement  I  this  endyte, 

But  out  of  Latin  in  my  tonge  it  wryte. 

Sk.,  I,  1079-1092;  II,  1-14 


ii.is-49  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  121 

In  May,  that  moder  is  of  monthes  glade, 

That  fresshe  floures,  blewe,  and  whyte,  and  rede, 

Ben  quike  agayn  that  winter  dede  made, 

And  ful  of  bawme  is  fleting  every  mede, 

Whan  Phebus  doth  his  brighte  bemes  sprede 

Right  in  the  whyte  Bole,  it  so  bitidde 

As  I  shal  singe,  on  Mayes  day  the  thridde, 

That  Pandarus  for  al  his  wyse  speche 
Felte  eek  his  part  of  loves  shottes  kene 
That,  coude  he  nevere  so  wel  of  loving  preche, 
It  made  his  hewe  a-day  ful  of te  grene. 
So  shoop  it  that  him  fil  that  day  a  tene 
In  love,  for  which  in  wo  to  bedde  he  wente 
And  made  er  it  was  day  ful  many  a  wente. 

The  swalwe  Proigne  with  a  sorwful  lay, 
Whan  morwe  com,  gan  make  hir  weymen tinge 
Why  she  forshapen  was;  and  evere  lay 
Pandare  a-bedde  half  in  a  slom  cringe 
Til  she  so  neigh  him  made  hir  chiteringe 
How  Tereus  gan  forth  hir  suster  take 
That  with  the  noyse  of  hir  he  gan  a- wake; 

And  gan  to  calle,  and  dresse  him  up  to  ryse, 
Remembring  him  his  erand  was  to  done 
From  Troilus,  and  eek  his  greet  empryse; 
And  caste  and  knew  in  good  plyt  was  the  mone 
To  doon  viage,  and  took  his  wey  ful  sone 
Un-to  his  neces  paleys  ther  bi-syde. 
Now  lanus,  god  of  entree,  thou  him  gyde! 

Whan  he  was  come  un-to  his  neces  place, 
"Wher  is  my  lady?"  to  hir  folk  seyde  he. 
And  they  him  tolde;  and  he  forth  in  gan  pace, 
And  fond  two  othere  ladyes  sete  and  she 
With-inne  a  paved  parlour;  and  they  three 
Herden  a  mayden  reden  hem  the  geste 
Of  the  Sege  of  Thebes  whyl  hem  leste. 

Sk.,  II,  50-84 


122  CHAUCER  n,s(KS4 

Quod  Pandarus,  "Ma  dame,  God  yow  see, 

With  al  your  book  and  al  the  companye!" 

"Ey,  uncle  myn,  welcome  y-wis,"  quod  she, 

And  up  she  roos  and  by  the  hond  in  hye 

She  took  him  faste,  and  seyde,  "This  night  thrye, 

To  goode  mote  it  turne,  of  yow  I  mette!" 

And  with  that  word  she  doun  on  bench  him  sette. 

"  Ye,  nece,  ye  shal  fare  wel  the  bet, 

If  God  wole,  al  this  yeer,"  quod  Pandarus; 

"But  I  am  sory  that  I  have  yow  let 

To  herken  of  your  book  ye  preysen  thus. 

For  Goddes  love,  what  seith  it?  telle  it  us! 

Is  it  of  love?  O,  som  good  ye  me  lere!" 

"Uncle,"  quod  she,  "your  maistresse  is  not  here!" 

With  that  they  gonnen  laughe,  and  tho  she  seyde, 
"This  romaunce  is  of  Thebes,  that  wre  rede. 
And  we  han  herd  how  that  King  Laius  deyde 
Thurgh  Edippus  his  sone,  and  al  that  dede. 
And  heer  we  stenten  at  these  lettres  rede, 
How  the  bisshop,  as  the  book  can  telle, 
Amphiorax,  fil  thurgh  the  ground  to  helle." 

Quod  Pandarus,  "  Al  this  knowe  I  my-selve, 
And  al  the  assege  of  Thebes  and  the  care, 
For  her-of  been  ther  maked  bokes  twelve: — 
But  lat  be  this  and  telle  me  how  ye  fare! 
Do  wey  your  barbe  and  shew  your  face  bare! 
Do  wey  your  book,  rys  up,  and  lat  us  daunce, 
And  lat  us  don  to  May  som  observaunce!" 

"Ey!  God  forbede!"  quod  she,  "be  ye  mad? 

Is  that  a  widewes  lyf ,  so  God  you  save? 

By  God,  ye  maken  me  right  sore  a-drad, 

Ye  ben  so  wilde,  it  semeth  as  ye  rave! 

It  sate  me  wel  bet  ay  in  a  cave 

To  bidde,  and  rede  on  holy  seyntes  lyves: 

Lat  maydens  gon  to  daunce,  and  yonge  wyves!" 

Sk.,  II,  85-1 19 


n.85-119  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  123 

"As  evere  thryve  I,"  quod  this  Pandarus, 

"  Yet  coude  I  telle  a  thing  to  doon  you  pleye." 

"Now  uncle  dere,"  quod  she,  "  telle  it  us 

For  Goddes  love!  Is  than  the  assege  aweye? 

I  am  of  Grekes  so  ferd  that  I  deye." 

"Nay,  nay,"  quod  he,  "as  evere  mote  I  thryve! 

It  is  a  thing  wel  bet  than  swiche  fyve." 

"Ye,  holy  God!"  quod  she,  "what  thing  is  that? 

What?  bet  than  swiche  fyve?  ey,  nay,  y-wis! 

For  al  this  world  ne  can  I  reden  what 

It  sholde  been.    Som  lape,  I  trowe,  is  this. 

And  but  your-selven  telle  us  what  it  is, 

My  wit  is  for  to  arede  it  al  to  lene. 

As  helpe  me  God,  I  noot  nat  what  ye  mene." 

"And  I  your  borowe,  ne  nevere  shal,  for  me, 
This  thing  be  told  to  yow,  as  mote  I  thryve!" 
"And  why  so,  uncle  myn?  why  so?"  quod  she. 
"By  God,"  quod  he,  "that  wol  I  telle  as  blyve; 
For  prouder  woniman  were  ther  noon  on-lyve 
And  ye  it  wiste,  in  al  the  toun  of  Trove. 
I  lape  nought,  as  evere  have  I  loye!" 

Tho  gan  she  wondren  more  than  biforn 
A  thousand  fold,  and  doun  hir  eyen  caste; 
For  nevere  sith  the  tyme  that  she  was  born 
To  knowe  thing  desired  she  so  faste. 
And  with  a  syk  she  seyde  him  at  the  laste, 
"Now,  uncle  myn,  I  nil  yow  nought  displese 
Nor  axen  more  that  may  do  yow  disese." 

So  after  this  with  many  wordes  glade 

And  freendly  tales  and  with  mery  chere 

Of  this  and  that  they  pleyde  and  gunnen  wade 

In  many  an  uncouth  glad  and  deep  matere, — 

As  freendes  doon  whan  they  ben  met  y-fere, — 

Til  she  gan  axen  him  how  Ector  ferde, 

That  was  the  tounes  wal  and  Grekes  yerde. 

Sk.,  II,  120-154 


124  CHAUCER  n,  120-154 

"Ful  wel,  I  thanke  it  God,"  quod  Pandarus, 
"Save  in  his  arm  he  hath  a  litel  wounde; 
And  eek  his  fresshe  brother  Troilus, 
The  wyse  worthy  Ector  the  secounde, 
In  whom  that  every  vertu  list  abounde, 
As  alle  trouthe  and  alle  gentillesse, 
Wysdom,  honour,  fredom,  and  worthinesse." 

"By  God,"  quod  she,  "of  Ector  that  is  sooth. 

Of  Troilus  the  same  thing  trowe  I ; 

For  dredelees,  men  tellen  that  he  dooth 

In  armes  day  by  day  so  worthily, 

And  bereth  him  heer  at  hoom  so  gentilly 

To  every  wight,  that  al  the  prys  hath  he 

Of  hem  that  me  were  levest  preysed  be." 

"Ye  sey  right  sooth,  y-wis,"  quod  Pandarus; 
"For  yesterday  who-so  had  with  him  been, 
He  might  have  wondred  up-on  Troilus; 
For  nevere  yet  so  thikke  a  swarm  of  been 
Ne  fleigh  as  Grekes  fro  him  gonne  fleen. 
And  thorugh  the  feld  in  every  wight es  ere 
Ther  nas  no  cry  but '  Troilus  is  there ! ' 

"Therto  he  is  the  freendlieste  man 

Of  greet  estat  that  evere  I  saw  my  lyve; 

And  wher  him  list,  best  felawshipe  can 

To  such  as  him  thinketh  able  for  to  thryve." 

And  with  that  word  tho  Pandarus  as  blyve 

He  took  his  leve,  and  seyde,  "I  wol  go  henne." 

"Nay,  blame  have  I,  myn  uncle,"  quod  she  thenne. 

"What  eyleth  yow  to  be  thus  wery  sone 
And  namelich  of  wommen?  Wol  ye  so? 
Nay,  sitteth  down!  By  God,  I  have  to  done 
With  yow,  to  speke  of  wisdom  er  ye  go." 
And  every  wight  that  was  a-boute  hem  tho 
That  herde  that,  gan  fer  a-wey  to  stonde, 
Whyl  they  two  had  al  that  hem  liste  in  honde. 

Sk.,II,  155-161;  183-196;  204-217 


n.155-189  TROILUS  AND    CRISEYDE  125 

Whan  that  hir  tale  al  brought  was  to  an  ende 
Of  hire  estat  and  of  hir  governaunce, 
Quod  Pandarus,  "Now  is  it  tyme  I  wende. 
But  yet,  I  seye,  aryseth,  lat  us  daunce, 
And  cast  your  widwes  habit  to  mischaunce! 
What  list  yow  thus  your-self  to  disfigure, 
Sith  yow  is  tid  thus  fair  an  aventure?  " 

"A!  wel  bithought!  for  love  of  God,"  quod  she, 

"Shal  I  not  witen  what  ye  mene  of  this?" 

"No,  this  thing  axeth  layser,"  tho  quod  he, 

"  And  eek  me  wolde  muche  greve,  y-wis, 

If  I  it  tolde,  and  ye  it  toke  amis. 

Yet  were  it  bet  my  tonge  for  to  stille 

Than  seye  a  sooth  that  were  ayeins  your  wille. 

"For,  nece,  by  the  Goddesse  Miner ve, 

And  luppiter,  that  maketh  the  thonder  ringe, 

And  by  the  blisful  Venus  that  I  serve, 

Ye  been  the  womman  in  this  world  livinge, 

With-oute  paramours,  to  my  witinge, 

That  I  best  love  and  lothest  am  to  greve, 

And  that  ye  witen  wel  your-self,  I  leve." 

"Y-wis,  myn  uncle,"  quod  she,  "grant  mercy; 
Your  freendship  have  I  founden  evere  yit. 
I  am  to  no  man  holden  trewely 
So  muche  as  yow,  and  have  so  litel  quit. 
And,  with  the  grace  of  God,  emforth  my  wit 
As  in  my  gilt  I  shal  you  nevere  offende. 
And  if  I  have  er  this,  I  wol  amende. 

"But  for  the  love  of  God  I  yow  beseche, 
As  ye  ben  he  that  I  most  love  and  triste, 
Lat  be  to  me  your  fremde  maner  speche, 
And  seye  to  me,  your  nece,  what  yow  liste." 
And  with  that  word  hir  uncle  anoon  hir  kiste, 
And  seyde,  "Gladly,  leve  nece  dere. 
Tak  it  for  good  that  I  shal  seye  yow  here." 

Sk.,  II,  218-252 


126  CHAUCER  n,  190-224 

With  that  she  gan  hir  eyen  doun  to  caste, 
And  Pandarus  to  coghe  gan  a  lyte, 
And  seyde,  "Nece,  alwey,  lo!  to  the  laste, 
How-so  it  be  that  som  men  hem  delyte 
With  subtil  art  hir  tales  for  to  endyte, 
Yet  for  al  that,  in  hir  entencioun, 
Hir  tale  is  al  for  som  conclusioun. 

"And  sithen  thende  is  every  tales  strengthe, 

And  this  matere  is  so  bihovely, 

What  sholde  I  peynte  or  drawen  it  on  lengthe 

To  yow  that  been  my  freend  so  feithfully?" 

And  with  that  word  he  gan  right  inwardly 

Biholden  hir  and  loken  on  hir  face, 

And  seyde,  "On  such  a  mirour  goode  grace!" 

Than  though te  he  thus,  "If  I  my  tale  endyte 
Ought  hard,  or  make  a  proces  any  whyle, 
She  shal  no  savour  han  ther-in  but  lyte, 
And  trowe  I  wolde  hir  in  my  wille  bigyle. 
For  tendre  wittes  wenen  al  be  wyle 
Ther-as  they  can  nat  pleynly  understonde. 
For- thy  hir  wit  to  serven  wol  I  fonde." — 

And  loked  on  hir  in  a  besy  wyse, 

And  she  was  war  that  he  byheld  her  so, 

And  seyde,  "Lord!  so  faste  ye  me  avyse! 

Sey  ye  me  nevere  er  now?    What  sey  ye,  no?" 

•'Yes,  yes,"  quod  he,  "and  bet  wol  er  I  go. 

But  by  my  trouthe  I  thoughte  now  if  ye 

Be  fortunat,  for  now  men  shal  it  see. 

"  Good  aventure,  O  bele  nece,  have  ye 
Ful  lightly  founden,  and  ye  conne  it  take. 
And  for  the  love  of  God  and  eek  of  me, 
Cacche  it  anoon  lest  aventure  slake. 
What  sholde  I  lenger  proces  of  it  make? 
Yif  me  your  hand,  for  in  this  world  is  noon, 
If  that  you  list,  a  wight  so  well  begoon. 

Sk.,  II,  253-280;  288-294 


n.225-259  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  127 

"  Beth  nought  agast,  ne  quaketh  nat.    Wher-to? 

Ne  chaungeth  nat  for  fere  so  your  hewe. 

For  hardely,  the  werste  of  this  is  do; 

And  though  my  tale  as  now  be  to  yow  newe, 

Yet  trist  alwey  ye  shal  me  finde  trewe. 

And  were  it  thing  that  me  thoughte  unsittinge, 

To  yow  nolde  I  no  swiche  tales  bringe." 

"Now,  my  good  eem,  for  Goddes  love,  I  preye," 

Quod  she,  "com  of,  and  tel  me  what  it  is. 

For  bothe  I  am  agast  what  ye  wol  seye, 

And  eek  me  longeth  it  to  wite,  y-wis. 

For  whether  it  be  wel  or  be  amis, 

Sey  on,  lat  me  not  in  this  fere  dwelle!" 

"So  wol  I  doon,  now  herkneth,  I  shal  telle. 

"Now,  nece  myn,  the  kinges  dere  sone, 

The  goode,  wyse,  worthy,  fresshe,  and  free, 

Which  alwey  for  to  do  wel  is  his  wone, 

The  noble  Troilus,  so  loveth  thee 

That,  bot  ye  helpe,  it  wol  his  bane  be. 

Lo,  heer  is  al,  what  sholde  I  more  seye? 

Doth  what  yow  list  to  make  him  live  or  deye. . 

"But  if  ye  lete  him  deye,  I  wol  sterve — 
Have  her  my  trouthe,  nece,  I  nil  not  lyen! — 
Al  sholde  I  with  this  knyf  my  throte  kerve!" 
With  that  the  teres  braste  out  of  his  yen, 
And  seyde,  "If  that  ye  doon  us  bothe  dyen, 
Thus  giltelees,  than  have  ye  fisshed  faire! 
What  mende  ye,  though  that  we  bothe  apeyre? 

"And  also  thenk  wel  that  this  is  no  gaude; 
For  me  were  lever  thou  and  I  and  he 
Were  hanged  than  I  sholde  been  his  baude, 
As  heyghe,  as  men  mighte  on  us  alle  y-see: 
I  am  thyn  eem,  the  shame  were  to  me 
As  wel  as  thee  if  that  I  sholde  assente, 
Thorugh  myn  abet,  that  he  thyn  honour  shente. 

Sk.,  IT,  302-329;  351-357 


128  CHAUCER  n,  260-29* 

"Now  understand,  for  I  yow  nought  requere 
To  binde  yow  to  him  thorugh  no  biheste, 
But  only  that  ye  make  him  bettre  chere 
Than  ye  han  doon  er  this,  and  more  feste, 
So  that  his  lyf  be  saved  at  the  leste: 
This  al  and  som,  and  playnly  our  entente. 
God  helpe  me  so,  I  nevere  other  mente!" 

Criseyde,  which  that  herde  him  in  this  wyse, 
Thoughte,  "I  shal  fele  what  he  meneth,  y-wis." 
"Now  eem,"  quod  she,  "what  wolde  ye  devyse? 
What  is  your  reed  I  sholde  doon  of  this?" 
"That  is  wel  seyd,"  quod  he,  "certayn,  best  is 
That  ye  him  love  ayein  for  his  lovinge, 
As  love  for  love  is  skilful  guerdoninge. 

"Thenk  eek  how  elde  wasteth  every  houre 

In  ech  of  yow  a  party  of  beautee; 

And  therfore,  er  that  age  thee  devoure, 

Go  love,  for,  olde,  ther  wol  no  wight  of  thee. 

Lat  this  proverbe  a  lore  un-to  yow  be: 

'To  late  y-war,  quod  Beautee,  whan  it  paste;' 

And  *  Elde  daunteth  Daunger  at  the  laste. ' 

"The  kinges  fool  is  wont  to  cryen  loude 

Whan  that  him  thinketh  a  womman  bereth  hir  hye 

'  So  longe  mote  ye  live,  and  alle  proude, 

Til  crowes  feet  be  growe  under  your  ye, 

And  sende  yow  than  a  mirour  in  to  prye 

In  which  that  ye  may  see  your  face  a-morwe!' 

Nece,  I  bidde  wisshe  yow  no  more  sorwe." 

With  this  he  stente,  and  caste  adoun  the  heed, 
And  she  bigan  to  breste  a-wepe  anoon. 
And  seyde,  "Alias,  for  wo!  why  nere  I  deed? 
For  of  this  world  the  feith  is  al  agoon! 
Alias!  what  sholden  straunge  to  me  doon 
When  he  that  for  my  beste  freend  I  wende 
Ret  me  to  love,  and  sholde  it  me  defende? 

Sk.,  II,  358-364;  386-413 


n.295-329  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  129 

"  Alias!  I  wolde  han  trusted  doutelees 
That  if  that  I  thurgh  my  disaventure 
Had  loved  other  him  or  Achilles, 
Ector,  or  any  mannes  creature, 
Ye  nolde  han  had  no  mercy  ne  mesure 
On  me,  but  alwey  had  me  in  repreve. 
This  false  world,  alias!  who  may  it  leve?" 

With  that  she  gan  ful  sorwfully  to  syke. 

"A!  may  it  be  no  bet?"  quod  Pandarus; 

"  By  God,  I  shal  no-more  com  heer  this  wyke, 

And  God  to-forn,  that  am  mistrusted  thus; 

I  see  ful  wel  that  ye  sette  lyte  of  us 

Or  of  our  deeth!    Alias!    I  woful  wrecche! 

Mighte  he  yet  live,  of  me  is  nought  to  recche. 

"But  sith  it  lyketh  yow  that  I  be  deed, 
By  Neptunus,  that  god  is  of  the  see, 
Fro  this  forth  shal  I  nevere  eten  breed 
Til  I  myn  owene  herte  blood  may  see; 
For  certayn  I  wol  deye  as  sone  as  he." — 
And  up  he  sterte,  and  on  his  wey  he  raughte, 
Til  she  agayn  him  by  the  lappe  caughte. 

Criseyde,  which  that  wel  neigh  starf  for  fere, 
So  as  she  was  the  ferfulleste  wight 
That  mighte  be,  and  herde  eek  with  hir  ere 
And  saw  the  sorwful  ernest  of  the  knight, 
And  in  his  preyere  eek  saw  noon  unright, 
And  for  the  harm  that  mighte  eek  fallen  more 
She  gan  to  rewe  and  dradde  hir  wonder  sore; 

And  though te  thus,  "Unhappes  fallen  thikke 
Alday  for  love  and  in  swich  maner  case, 
As  men  ben  cruel  in  him-self  and  wikke. 
And  if  this  man  slee  heer  him-self,  alias! 
In  my  presence  it  wol  be  no  solas. 
What  men  wolde  of  hit  deme  I  can  nat  seye. 
It  nedeth  me  ful  sleyly  for  to  pleye." 

Sk. , II,  414-420;  428-434;  442-462 


130  CHAUCER  n.  330-354 

And  with  a  sorwful  syk  she  seyde  thrye, 
"A!  Lord!  what  me  is  tid  a  sory  chaunce! 
For  myn  estat  now  lyth  in  lupartye 
And  eek  myn  ernes  lyf  lyth  in  balaunce; 
But  nathelees  with  Goddes  governaunce 
I  shal  so  doon,  myn  honour  shal  I  kepe, 
And  eek  his  lyf;"  and  stinte  for  to  wepe. 

"Of  harmes  two  the  lesse  is  for  to  chese. 

Yet  have  I  lever  maken  him  good  chere 

In  honour  than  myn  ernes  lyf  to  lese. 

Ye  seyn  ye  no- thing  elles  me  requere?" 

"No,  wis,"  quod  he,  "  myn  owene  nece  dere." 

"Now  wel,"  quod  she,  ''and  I  wol  doon  my  peyne. 

I  shal  myn  herte  ayeins  my  lust  constreyne, 

"But  that  I  nil  not  holden  him  in  honde 
Ne  love  a  man,  ne  can  I  not  ne  may 
Ayeins  my  wille;  but  elles  wol  I  fonde, 
Myn  honour  sauf,  plese  him  fro  day  to  day. 
Ther-to  nolde  I  nought  ones  have  seyd  nay, 
But  that  I  dredde  as  in  my  fantasye. 
But  cesse  cause,  ay  cesseth  maladye. 

"And  heer  I  make  a  protestacioun 

That  in  this  proces  if  ye  depper  go 

That  certaynly,  for  no  savacioun 

Of  yow,  though  that  ye  sterve  bothe  two, 

Though  al  the  world  on  o  day  be  my  fo, 

Ne  shal  I  nevere  on  him  han  other  routhe." — 

"I  graunte  wel,"  quod  Pandare,  "by  my  trouthe. 

"But  may  I  truste  wel  ther-to,"  quod  he, 

"  That  of  this  thing  that  ye  han  hight  me  here 

Ye  wol  it  holden  trewly  un-to  me?" 

"Ye,  doutelees,"  quod  she,  "myn  uncle  dere." 

"Ne  that  I  shal  han  cause  in  this  matere," 

Quod  he,  "to  pleyne,  or  after  yow  to  preche?" 

"Why  no,  pardee!    What  nedeth  more  speche?'' 

Sk.,  II,  463-497 


H.  365-399  TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE  131 

Tho  fillen  they  in  othere  tales  glade 

Til  at  the  laste,  "O  good  eem,"  quod  she  tho, 

"For  love  of  God,  which  that  us  bothe  made, 

Tel  me  how  first  ye  wisten  of  his  wo: 

Wot  noon  of  hit  but  ye?"  He  seyde,  "No." 

"Can  he  wel  speke  of  love?"  quod  she,  "I  preye, 

Tel  me,  for  I  the  bet  me  shal  purveye." 

Tho  Pandarus  a  litel  gan  to  smyle 
And  seyde,  "By  my  trouthe  I  shal  yow  telle. 
This  other  day,  nought  gon  ful  longe  whyle, 
In-with  the  paleys-gardyn  by  a  welle, 
Gan  he  and  I  wel  half  a  day  to  dwelle, 
Right  for  to  speken  of  an  ordenaunce, 
How  we  the  Grekes  mighte  disavaunce. 

"Sone  after  that  bigonne  we  to  lepe, 
And  casten  with  our  dartes  to  and  fro, 
Til  at  the  laste  he  seyde  he  wolde  slepe, 
And  on  the  gres  a-doun  he  leyde  him  tho. 
And  I  after  gan  rome  to  and  fro 
Til  that  I  herde,  as  that  I  welk  allone, 
How  he  bigan  ful  wofully  to  grone. 

"Tho  gan  I  stalke  him  softely  bihmde, 

And  sikerly  the  sothe  for  to  seyne, 

As  I  can  clepe  ayein  now  to  my  minde, 

Right  thus  to  Love  he  gan  him  for  to  pleyne: 

He  seyde,  'Lord,  have  routhe  up-on  my  peyne, 

Al  have  I  been  rebel  in  myn  entente! 

Now  mea  culpa,  lord!  I  me  repente.' 

"And  God  wot  nevere  sith  that  I  was  born 
Was  I  so  bisy  no  man  for  to  preche, 
Ne  nevere  was  to  wight  so  depe  y-sworn 
Or  he  me  tolde  who  mighte  been  his  leche. 
But  now  to  yow  rehersen  al  his  speche, 
Or  alle  his  woful  wordes  for  to  soune, 
Ne  bid  me  not,  but  ye  wol  see  me  swoune. 

Sk.,  II,  498-525;  568-574 


132  CHAUCER 


II,  400-434 


"And  right  good  thrift  I  pray  to  God  have  ye, 

That  han  swich  oon  y-caught  with-oute  net. 

And  be  ye  wys  as  ye  ben  fair  to  see 

Wei  in  the  ring  than  is  the  ruby  set. 

Ther  were  nevere  two  so  wel  y-met, 

Whan  ye  ben  his  al  hool  as  he  is  youre: 

Ther  mighty  God  yet  graunte  us  see  that  houre!" 

"Nay,  therof  spak  I  not,  a,  ha!"  quod  she, 

"As  helpe  me  God,  ye  shenden  every  deel!" 

"O  mercy,  dere  nece,"  anoon  quod  he, 

"What-so  I  spak  I  mente  nought  but  weel, 

By  Mars  the  god  that  helmed  is  of  steel! 

Now  beth  nought  wrooth,  my  blood,  my  nece  dere! " 

"Now  wel,"  quod  she,  "foryeven  be  it  here!" 

With  this  he  took  his  leve  and  hoom  he  wente; 
And  Lord!  how  he  was  glad  and  wel  bigoon! 
Criseyde  aroos,  no  lenger  she  ne  stente, 
But  straught  in-to  hir  closet  wente  anoon, 
And  sette  here  doun  as  stille  as  any  stoon, 
And  every  word  gan  up  and  doun  to  winde 
That  he  had  seyd,  as  it  com  hir  to  minde. 

And  wex  somdel  astonied  in  hir  thought 

Right  for  the  newe  cas.  But  whan  that  she 

Was  ful  avysed,  tho  fond  she  right  nought 

Of  peril,  why  she  oughte  afered  be. 

For  man  may  love  of  possibilitee 

A  womman  so  his  herte  may  to-breste 

And  she  nought  love  ayein  but-if  hir  leste. 

But  as  she  sat  allone  and  thoughte  thus 
Thascry  aroos  at  skarmishe  al  with-oute, 
And  men  cryde  in  the  strete,  "  See,  Troilus 
Hath  right  now  put  to  flighte  the  Grekes  route!" 
With  that  gan  al  hir  meynee  for  to  shoute, 
"A!  go  we  see,  caste  up  the  lads  wyde! 
For  thurgh  this  strete  he  moot  to  palays  ryde! 

Sk.,  11,582-616 


n.435-469  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  133 

"For  other  wey  is  fro  the  yate  noon 
Of  Dardanus,  ther  open  is  the  cheyne." 
With  that  com  he  and  al  his  folk  anoon 
An  esy  pas  ryding,  in  routes  tweyne, 
Right  as  his  happy  day  was,  sooth  to  seyne 
For  which,  men  say,  may  nought  disturbed  be 
That  shal  bityden  of  necessitee. 

This  Troilus  sat  on  his  baye  stede, 

Al  armed  save  his  heed  ful  richely, 

And  wounded  was  his  hors,  and  gan  to  blede, 

On  which  he  rood  a  pas  ful  softely. 

But  swich  a  knightly  sighte,  trewely, 

As  was  on  him,  was  nought  with-outen  faile 

To  loke  on  Mars,  that  god  is  of  batayle. 

So  lyk  a  man  of  armes  and  a  knight 
He  was  to  seen,  fulfild  of  heigh  prowesse; 
For  bothe  he  had  a  body  and  a  might 
To  doon  that  thing,  as  wel  as  hardinesse. 
And  eek  to  seen  him  in  his  gere  him  dresse, 
So  freshe. ,  so  yong,  so  weldy  semed  he, 
It  was  an  hevene  up-on  him  for  to  see. 

His  helm  to-hewen  was  in  twenty  places, 

That  by  a  tissew  heng  his  bak  bihinde, 

His  sheld  to-dasshed  was  with  swerdes  and  maces, 

In  which  men  mighte  many  an  arwe  finde 

That  thirled  hadde  horn  and  nerf  and  rinde. 

And  ay  the  peple  cryde,  "Heer  come.th  our  loye, 

And,  next  his  brother,  holder  up  of  Troye!" 

For  which  he  wex  a  litel  reed  for  shame 

Whan  he  the  peple  up-on  him  herde  cryen, 

That  to  biholde  it  was  a  noble  game, 

How  sobreliche  he  caste  doun  his  yen. 

Criseyda  gan  al  his  chere  aspyen, 

And  leet  so  softe  it  in  hir  herte  sinke, 

That  to  hir-self  she  seyde,  "Who  yaf  me  drinke?" 

Sk.,  II,  617-651 


134  CHAUCER  n,  470-504 

For  of  hir  owene  thought  she  wex  al  reed, 
Remembring  hir  right  thus,  "Lo,  this  is  he 
Which  that  myn  uncle  swereth  he  moot  be  deed 
But  I  on  him  have  mercy  and  pitee;" 
And  with  that  thought  for  pure  a-shamed  she 
Gan  in  hir  heed  to  pulle,  and  that  as  faste, 
Whyl  he  and  al  the  peple  for-by  paste, 

And  gan  to  caste  and  rollen  up  and  doun 
With-in  hir  thought  his  excellent  prowesse, 
And  his  estat,  and  also  his  renoun, 
His  wit,  his  shap,  and  eek  his  gentillesse. 
But  most  hir  favour  was,  for  his  distresse 
Was  al  for  hir,  and  thoughte  it  was  a  routhe 
To  sleen  swich  oon  if  that  he  mente  trouthe. 

Now  mighte  som  envyous  langle  thus: 
"This  was  a  sodeyn  love!  How  mighte  it  be 
That  she  so  lightly  lovede  Troilus 
Right  for  the  firste  sighte;  ye,  pardee?" 
Now  who-so  seyth  so,  mote  he  nevere  thee! 
For  every  thing  a  ginning  hath  it  nede 
Er  al  be  wrought,  with-outen  any  drede. 

For  I  sey  nought  that  she  so  sodeynly 
Yaf  him  hir  love,  but  that  she  gan  enclyne 
To  lyke  him  first,  and  I  have  told  yow  why; 
And  after  that,  his  manhod  and  his  pyne 
Made  love  with-in  hir  for  to  myne, 
For  which  by  proces  and  by  good  servyse 
He  gat  hir  love,  and  in  no  sodeyn  wyse. 

And  Lord !  so  she  gan  in  hir  thought  argue 
In  this  matere  of  which  I  have  yow  told, 
And  what  to  doon  best  were,  and  what  eschue, 
That  plyted  she  ful  ofte  in  many  fold. 
Now  was  hir  herte  warm,  now  was  it  cold, 
And  what  she  thoughte  somwhat  shal  I  wryte, 
As  to  myn  auctor  listeth  for  to  endyte. 

Sk.,  II,  652-679;  694-700 


n.505-539  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  135 

She  though te  wel  that  Troilus  persone 
She  knew  by  sighte  and  eek  his  gentillesse, 
And  thus  she  seyde,  "Al  were  it  nought  to  done 
To  graunte  him  love,  yet  for  his  worthinesse 
It  were  honour  with  pley  and  with  gladnesse 
In  honestee  with  swich  a  lord  to  dele 
For  myn  estat  and  also  for  his  hele. 

"Eek  wel  wot  I  my  kinges  sone  is  he, 
And  sith  he  hath  to  see  me  swich  delyt, 
If  I  wolde  utterly  his  sighte  flee 
Paraunter  he  mighte  have  me  in  dispyt, 
Thurgh  which  I  mighte  stonde  in  worse  plyt. 
Now  were  I  wys  me  hate  to  purchace 
With-outen  ned§  ther  I  may  stonde  in  grace! 

"In  every  thing,  I  woot,  ther  lyth  mesure. 
For  though  a  man  forbede  dronkenesse, 
He  nought  for-bet  that  every  creature 
Be  drinkelees  for  alwey,  as  I  gesse. 
Eek  sith  I  woot  for  me  is  his  distresse, 
I  ne  oughte  not  for  that  thing  him  despyse, 
Sith  it  is  so  he  meneth  in  good  wyse. 

"And  eek  I  knowe  of  longe  tyme  agoon 

His  thewes  goode  and  that  he  is  not  nyce. 

Ne  avauntour,  seyth  men,  certein,  is  he  noon; 

To  wys  is  he  to  do  so  gret  a  vyce. 

Ne  als  I  nel  him  nevere  so  cheryce 

That  he  may  make  avaunt,  by  luste  cause. 

He  shal  me  nevere  binde  in  swich  a  clause. 

"Now  set  a  cas,  the  hardest  is,  y-wis, 

Men  mighten  deme  that  he  loveth  me: 

What  dishonour  were  it  un-to  me  this? 

May  I  him  lette  of  that?  Why  nay,  pardee! 

I  knowe  also,  and  alday  here  and  see, 

Men  loven  wommen  al  this  toun  aboute; 

Be  they  the  wers?  Why,  nay,  with-outen  doute! 

Sk.,  II,  701-735 


136  CHAUCER  n,  540-574 

"I  thenk  eek  how  he  able  is  for  to  have 
Of  al  this  noble  toun  the  thriftieste 
To  been  his  love,  so  she  hir  honour  save; 
For  out  and  out  he  is  the  worthieste, 
Save  only  Ector,  which  that  is  the  beste. 
And  yet  his  lyf  al  lyth  now  in  my  cure, 
But  swich  is  love  and  eek  myn  aventure. 

"Ne  me  to  love,  a  wonder  is  it  nought; 
For  wel  wot  I  my-self,  so  God  me  spede, 
Al  wolde  I  that  noon  wiste  of  this  thought, 
I  am  oon  the  fayreste,  out  of  drede, 
And  goodlieste,  who-so  taketh  hede; 
And  so  men  seyn  in  al  the  toun  of  Troye. 
What  wonder  is  it  though  he  of  me  have  loye? 

"I  am  myn  owene  woman,  wel  at  ese, 

I  thank  it  God,  as  after  myn  estat; 

Right  yong,  and  stonde  unteyd  in  lusty  lese, 

With-outen  lalousye  or  swich  debat. 

Shal  noon  housbonde  seyn  to  me  '  Chekmat ! ' 

For  either  they  ben  ful  of  lalousye, 

Or  maisterful,  or  loven  novelrye. 

"What  shal  I  doon?  to  what  fyn  live  I  thus? 
Shal  I  nat  loven  in  cas  if  that  me  leste? 
What,  par  dieuxl  I  am  nought  religious! 
And  though  that  I  myn  herte  sette  at  reste 
Upon  this  knight,  that  is  the  worthieste, 
And  kepe  alwey  myn  honour  and  my  name, 
By  alle  right  it  may  do  me  no  shame." 

But  right  as  whan  the  sonne  shyneth  brighte, 
In  March  that  chaungeth  ofte  tyme  his  face, 
And  that  a  cloude  is  put  with  wind  to  flighte 
Which  over-sprat  the  sonne  as  for  a  space. 
A  cloudy  thought  gan  thorugh  hir  soule  pace, 
That  over-spradde  hir  brighte  thoughtes  alle, 
So  that  for  fere  almost  she  gan  to  falle. 

Sk.,  II,  736-770 


n.575-609  TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE  137 

That  thought  was  this:  "  Alias!  sin  I  am  free, 

Sholde  I  now  love,  and  putte  in  lupartye 

My  sikernesse,  and  thrallen  libertee? 

Alias!  how  dorste  I  thenken  that  folye? 

May  I  nought  wel  in  other  folk  aspye 

Hir  dredful  loye,  hir  constreynte,  and  hir  peyne? 

Ther  loveth  noon  that  she  nath  why  to  pleyne." 

And  after  that  hir  thought  bigan  to  clere, 
And  seyde,  uHe  which  that  no- thing  under- taketh, 
No  thing  ne  acheveth,  be  him  looth  or  dere." 
And  with  an  other  thought  hir  herte  quaketh; 
Than  slepeth  hope,  and  after  drede  awaketh: 
Now  hoot,  now  cold,  but  thus  bi-twixen  tweye 
She  rist  hir  up  and  wente  hir  for  to  pleye. 

The  dayes  honour  and  the  hevenes  ye, 
The  nightes  fo, — al  this  clepe  I  the  sonne, — 
Gan  westren  faste,  and  dounward  for  to  wrye, 
As  he  that  had  his  dayes  cours  y-ronne; 
And  whyte  thinges  wexen  dimme  and  donne 
For  lak  of  light,  and  sterres  for  to  appere, 
That  she  and  al  hir  folk  in  wente  y-fere. 

So  whan  it  lyked  hir  to  goon  to  reste, 

And  voyded  weren  they  that  voyden  oughte, 

She  seyde  that  to  slepe  wel  hir  leste. 

Hir  wommen  sone  til  hir  bed  hir  broughte. 

Whan  al  was  hust,  than  lay  she  stille  and  thoughte 

Of  al  this  thing  the  manere  and  the  wyse. 

Reherce  it  nedeth  nought,  for  ye  ben  wyse. 

A  nightingale  upon  a  cedre  grene 
Under  the  chambre-wal  ther  as  she  lay 
Ful  loude  sang  ayein  the  mone  shene, 
Paraunter,  in  his  briddes  wyse,  a  lay 
Of  love,  that  made  hir  herte  fresh  and  gay. 
That  herkned  she  so  longe  in  good  entente, 
Til  at  the  laste  the  dede  sleep  hir  hente. 

Sk.,II,  771-777;  806-812;  904-924 


138  CHAUCER  n,6io-644 

And  as  she  sleep,  anoon-right  tho  hir  mette 

How  that  an  egle,  f ether ed  whyt  as  boon, 

Under  hir  brest  his  longe  clawes  sette, 

And  oute  hir  herte  he  rente,  and  that  a-noon, 

And  did  his  herte  in-to  hir  brest  to  goon, 

Of  which  she  nought  agroos  ne  no-thing  smerte, 

And  forth  he  fleigh  with  herte  left  for  herte. 

Now  lat  hir  slepe,  and  we  our  tales  holde 

Of  Troilus,  that  is  to  paleys  riden 

Fro  the  scarmuche,  of  the  which  I  tolde, 

And  in  his  chambre  sit,  and  hath  abiden 

Til  two  or  three  of  his  messages  yeden 

For  Pandarus,  and  soughten  him  ful  faste 

Til  they  him  founde  and  broughte  him  at  the  laste. 

This  Pandarus  com  leping  in  at  ones 
And  seide  thus,  "  Who  hath  ben  wel  y-bete 
To-day  with  swerdes  and  with  slinge-stones 
But  Troilus,  that  hath  caught  him  an  hete?" 
And  gan  to  lape,  and  seyde,  "Lord,  so  ye  swete! 
But  rys  and  lat  us  soupe  and  go  to  reste." 
And  he  answerde  him,  "Do  we  as  thee  leste." 

With  al  the  haste  goodly  that  they  mighte 
They  spedde  hem  fro  the  souper  un-to  bedde; 
And  every  wight  oute  at  the  dore  him  dighte, 
And  wher  him  list  upon  his  wey  he  spedde. 
But  Troilus,  that  thoughte  his  herte  bledde 
For  wo,  til  that  he  herde  som  tydinge, 
He  seyde,  "Freend,  shal  I  now  wepe  or  singe?" 

Quod  Pandarus,  "Ly  stille  and  lat  me  slepe, 
And  don  thyn  hood,  thy  nedes  spedde  be. 
And  chees  if  thou  wolt  singe  or  daunce  or  lepe: 
At  shorte  wordes,  thow  shalt  trowe  me, 
Sire,  my  nece  wol  do  wel  by  thee 
And  love  thee  best,  by  God  and  by  my  trouthe, 
But  lak  of  pursuit  make  it  in  thy  slouthe. 

Sk.,  IT,  925-959 


11,645-679  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  139 

"  For  thus  ferforth  I  have  thy  work  bigonne, 
Fro  day  to  day,  til  this  day  by  the  morwe, 
Hir  love  of  freendship  have  I  to  thee  wonne, 
And  also  hath  she  leyd  hir  ieyth  to  borwe. 
Algate  a  foot  is  hameled  of  thy  sorwe." 
What  sholde  I  lenger  sermon  of  it  holde? 
As  ye  han  herd  bifore,  al  he  him  tolde. 

But  right  as  floures,  thorugh  the  colde  of  night 
Y-closed,  stoupen  on  hir  stalkes  lowe, 
Redressen  hem  a-yein  the  sonne  bright, 
And  spreden  on  hir  kinde  cours  by  rowe, 
Right  so  gan  tho  his  eyen  up  to  throwe 
This  Troilus,  and  seyde,  "O  Venus  dere, 
Thy  might,  thy  grace,  y-heried  be  it  here!" 

And  to  Pandare  he  held  up  bothe  his  hondes, 
And  seyde,  "Lord,  al  thyn  be  that  I  have. 
For  I  am  hool,  al  brosten  been  my  bondes. 
A  thousand  Troians  who-so  that  me  yave, 
Ech  after  other,  God  so  wis  me  save, 
Ne  mighte  me  so  gladen.    Lo,  myn  herte, 
It  spredeth  so,  for  loye  it  wol  to-sterte!" 

"  Al  esily,  now,  for  the  love  of  Marte," 
Quod  Pandarus,  "for  every  thing  hath  tyme. 
So  longe  abyd  til  that  the  night  departe; 
For  al  so  siker  as  thow  lyst  here  by  me, 
And  God  toforn,  I  wol  be  ther  at  pryme, 
And  for-thy  werk  somwhat  as  I  shal  seye, 
Or  on  som  other  wight  this  charge  leye. 

"I  woot  wel  that  thow  wyser  art  than  I 
A  thousand  fold,  but  if  I  were  as  thou, 
God  helpe  me  so,  as  I  wolde  outrely 
Right  of  my  owene  hond  wryte  hir  right  now 
A  lettre,  in  which  I  wolde  hir  tellen  how 
I  ferde  amis,  and  hir  beseche  of  routhe. 
Now  help  thy-self ,  and  leve  it  not  for  slouthe. 

Sk.,TT,  960-980;  988-994;  1002-1008 


140  CHAUCER 


II,  680-714 


"And  I  my-self  shal  ther-with  to  hir  goon; 
And  whan  thou  wost  that  I  am  with  hir  there, 
Worth  thou  up-on  a  courser  right  anoon, 
Ye,  hardily,  right  in  thy  beste  gere, 
And  ryd  forth  by  the  place  as  nought  ne  were; 
And  thou  shalt  finde  us,  if  I  may,  sittinge 
At  som  windowe,  in-to  the  strete  lokinge. 

"And  if  thee  list  than  maystow  us  saluwe, 
And  up-on  me  make  thy  contenaunce. 
But,  by  thy  lyf,  be  war  and  faste  eschuwe 
To  tarien  ought;  God  shilde  us  fro  mischaunce! 
Ryd  forth  thy  wey,  and  hold  thy  governaunce, 
And  we  shal  speke  of  thee  som-what,  I  trowe, 
Whan  thou  art  goon,  to  do  thyn  eres  glowe ! 

"Touching  thy  lettre,  thou  art  wys  y-nough, 
I  woot  thow  nilt  it  digneliche  endy te ; 
As  make  it  with  thise  argumentes  tough; 
Ne  scrivenish  or  craftily  thou  it  wryte. 
Beblotte  it  with  thy  teres  eek  a  lyte. 
And  if  thou  wryte  a  goodly  word  al  softe, 
Though  it  be  good  reherce  it  not  to  ofte. 

"Ne  lompre  eek  no  discordaunt  thing  y-fere, 
As  thus,  to  usen  termes  of  phisyk. 
In  loves  termes  hold  of  thy  matere 
The  forme  alwey,  and  do  that  it  be  lyk; 
For  if  a  peyntour  wrolde  peynte  a  pyk 
With  asses  feet,  and  hede  it  as  an  ape, 
It  cordeth  nought;  so  nere  it  but  a  lape." 

This  counseyl  lyked  wel  to  Troilus; 

But  as  a  dreedful  lover  he  seyd?  this: 

"Alias,  my  dere  brother,  Pandarus, 

I  am  ashamed  for  to  wryte,  y-wis, 

Lest  of  myn  innocence  I  seyde  a-mis, 

Or  that  she  nolde  it  for  despyt  receyve. 

Thanne  were  I  deed,  ther  mighte  it  no-thing  weyve." 

Sk.,  II,  1009-1029;  1037-1050 


n.715-749  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  141 

To  that  Pandare  answerde,  "If  thee  lest, 
Do  that  I  seye,  and  lat  me  therwith  goon. 
For  by  that  Lord  that  formed  est  and  west, 
I  hope  of  it  to  bringe  answere  anoon 
Right  of  hir  hond;  and  if  that  thou  nilt  noon, 
Lat  be,  and  sory  mote  he  been  his  lyve, 
Ayeins  thy  lust  that  helpeth  thee  to  thryve." 

Quod  Troilus,  "Depardieux,  I  assente. 

Sin  that  thee  list,  I  will  aryse  and  wryte, 

And  blisful  God  preye  ich  with  good  entente 

The  vyage,  and  the  lettre  I  shal  endyte, 

So  spede  it!    And  thou  Minerva,  the  whyte, 

Yif  thou  me  wit  my  lettre  to  devyse!" 

And  sette  him  doun,  and  wroot  right  in  this  wyse. — 

First  he  gan  hir  his  righte  lady  calle, 
His  hertes  lyf,  his  lust,  his  sorwes  leche, 
His  blisse,  and  eek  thise  othere  termes  alle 
That  in  swich  cas  these  loveres  alle  seche. 
And  in  ful  humble  wyse,  as  in  his  speche, 
He  gan  him  recomaunde  un-to  hir  grace, — 
To  telle  al  how,  it  axeth  muchel  space. 

And  after  this  ful  lowly  he  hir  preyde 

To  be  nought  wrooth,  though  he  of  his  folye 

So  hardy  was  to  hir  to  wryte,  and  seyde 

That  love  it  made  or  elles  moste  he  dye, 

And  pitously  gan  mercy  for  to  crye; 

And  after  that  he  seyde,  and  ley  ful  loude, 

Him-self  was  litel  worth,  and  lesse  he  coude; 

And  that  she  sholde  han  his  conning  excused 

That  litel  was,  and  eek  he  dredde  hir  so, 

And  his  unworthinesse  he  ay  acused; 

And  after  that  than  gan  he  telle  his  wo; 

But  that  was  endeles,  withouten  ho; 

And  seyde  he  wolde  in  trouthe  alwey  him  holde; — 

And  radde  it  over,  and  gan  the  lettre  folde. 

Sk.,  11,1051-1085 


142  CHAUCER  11, 750-754 

And  with  his  salte  teres  gan  he  bathe 
The  ruby  in  his  signet,  and  it  sette 
Upon  the  wex  deliverliche  and  rathe. 
Ther-with  a  thousand  tymes  er  he  lette 
He  kiste  tho  the  lettre  that  he  shette, 
And  seyde,  "Lettre,  a  blisful  destenee 
Thee  shapen  is,  my  lady  shal  thee  see!'* 

This  Pandare  took  the  lettre,  and  that  by  tyme 
A-morwe,  and  to  his  neces  paleys  sterte, 
And  faste  he  swoor  that  it  was  passed  pryme, 
And  gan  to  lape,  and  seyde,  "Y-wis,  myn  herte, 
So  fresh  it  is,  al-though  it  sore  smerte, 
I  may  not  slepe  nevere  a  Mayes  morwe. 
I  have  a  loly  wo,  a  lusty  sorwe." 

Criseyde,  whan  that  she  hir  uncle  herde, 

With  dreedful  herte  and  desirous  to  here 

The  cause  of  his  cominge,  thus  answerde, 

"Now  by  your  feyth,  myn  uncle,"  quod  she,  "dere, 

What  maner  windes  gydeth  yow  now  here? 

Tel  us  your  loly  wo  and  your  penaunce. 

How  ferforth  be  ye  put  in  loves  daunce?" 

"By  God,"  quod  he,  "I  hoppe  alwey  bihinde!" 
And  she  to-laugh,  it  thoughte  hir  herte  breste. 
Quod  Pandarus,  "Loke  alwey  that  ye  finde 
Game  in  myn  hood,  but  herkneth  if  yow  leste. 
Ther  is  right  now  come  in-to  toune  a  geste, 
A  Greek  espye,  and  telleth  newe  thinges, 
For  which  come  I  to  telle  yow  tydinges. 

"Into  the  gardin  go  we,  and  we  shal  here 
Al  prevely  of  this  a  long  sermoun." 
With  that  they  wenten  arm  in  arm  y-fere 
In-to  the  gardin  from  the  chaumbre  doun. 
And  whan  that  he  so  fer  was  that  the  soun 
Of  that  he  speke,  no  man  here  mighte, 
He  seyde  hir  thus,  and  out  the  lettre  plighte: 

Sk.,II,  1086-1120 


n.785-819  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  143 

"  Lo,  he  that  is  al  hoolly  youres  free 
Him  recomaundeth  lowly  to  your  grace, 
And  sent  to  you  this  lettre  heer  by  me. 
Avyseth  you  on  it  whan  ye  han  space, 
And  of  som  goodly  answere  yow  purchace, 
Or,  helpe  me  God,  so  pleynly  for  to  seyne, 
He  may  not  longe  liven  for  his  peyne." 

Ful  dredfully  tho  gan  she  stonde  stille, 
And  took  it  nought,  but  al  hir  humble  chere 
Gan  for  to  chaunge,  and  seyde,  "  Scrit  ne  bille, 
For  love  of  God,  that  toucheth  swich  matere, 
Ne  bring  me  noon!  And  also,  uncle  dere, 
To  myn  estat  have  more  reward  I  preye 
Than  to  his  lust.    What  sholde  I  more  seye? 

"And  loketh  now  if  this  be  resonable, 

And  letteth  nought  for  favour  ne  for  slouthe 

To  seyn  a  sooth:  Now  were  it  covenable 

To  myn  estat,  by  God  and  by  your  trouthe, 

To  taken  it,  or  to  han  of  him  routhe, 

In  harming  of  my-self  or  in  repreve? 

Ber  it  ayein,  for  him  that  ye  on  level" 

This  Pandarus  gan  on  hir  for  to  stare, 
And  seyde,  "Now  is  this  the  grettest  wonder 
That  evere  I  sey!  Lat  be  this  nyce  fare! 
To  deethe  mote  I  smiten  be  with  thonder 
If,  for  the  citee  which  that  stondeth  yonder, 
Wolde  I  a  lettre  un-to  yow  bringe  or  take 
To  harm  of  yow.  What  list  yow  thus  it  make? 

"  But  thus  ye  faren  wel  neigh  alle  and  some 
That  he  that  most  desireth  yow  to  serve, 
Of  him  ye  recche  leest  wher  he  bicome, 
And  whether  that  he  live  or  elles  sterve. 
But  for  al  that  that  evere  I  may  deserve, 
Refuse  it  nought,"  quod  he  and  hente  hir  faste, 
And  in  hir  bosom  the  lettre  doun  he  thraste. 

Sk.,11,  1121-1155 


144  CHAUCER  n,  820-854 

And  seyde  hir,  "Now  cast  it  away  anoon, 

That  folk  may  seen  and  gauren  on  us  tweye." 

Quod  she,  "I  can  abyde  til  they  be  goon," 

And  gan  to  smyle,  and  seyde  him,  "Eem,  I  preye, 

Swich  answere  as  yow  list  your-self  purveye, 

For  trewely  I  nil  no  lettre  wryte." 

"No?  Than  wol  I,"  quod  he,  "so  ye  endyte." 

Therwith  she  lough,  and  seyde,  "Go  we  dyne." 
And  he  gan  at  him-self  to  lape  faste, 
And  seyde,  "Nece,  I  have  so  greet  a  pyne 
For  love  that  every  other  day  I  faste;" 
And  gan  his  beste  lapes  forth  to  caste, 
And  made  hir  so  laugh  at  his  folye 
That  she  for  laughter  wende  for  to  dye. 

And  whan  that  she  was  comen  in-to  halle, 

"Now  eem,"  quod  she,  "we  wol  go  dyne  anoon." 

And  gan  some  of  hir  women  to  hir  calle, 

And  streyght  in-to  hir  chaumbre  gan  she  goon. 

But  of  hir  besinesses,  this  was  oon 

A-monges  othere  thinges,  out  of  drede, 

Ful  prively  this  lettre  for  to  rede; 

Avysed  word  by  word  in  every  lyne, 

And  fond  no  lak,  she  thoughte  he  coude  good; 

And  up  it  putte,  and  wente  hir  in  to  dyne. 

And  Pandarus,  that  in  a  studye  stood, 

Er  he  was  war  she  took  him  by  the  hood 

And  seyde,  "Ye  were  caught  er  that  ye  wiste!" 

"I  vouche  sauf,"  quod  he,  "do  what  yow  liste." 

Tho  wesshen  they,  and  sette  hem  doun  and  ete. 
And  after  noon  ful  sleyly  Pandarus 
Gan  drawe  him  to  the  windowe  next  the  strete, 
And  seyde,  "Nece,  who  hath  arayed  thus 
The  yonder  hous  that  stant  afor-yeyn  us?" 
"Which  hous?"  quod  she,  and  gan  for  to  biholde, 
And  knew  it  wel,  and  whos  it  was  him  tolde, 

Si.,  II,  1156-1190 


ii,  855-889  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  145 

And  fillen  forth  in  speche  of  thinges  smale, 
And  seten  in  the  windowe  bothe  tweye. 
Whan  Pandarus  saw  tyme  un-to  his  tale, 
And  saw  wel  that  hir  folk  were  alle  a-weye, 
"Now  nece  myn,  tel  on,"  quod  he,  "I  seye, 
How  lyketh  yow  the  lettre  that  ye  woot? 
Can  he  ther-on?    For  by  my  trouthe  I  noot." 

Therwith  al  rosy  hewed  tho  wex  she, 

And  gan  to  humme,  and  seyde,  "So  I  trowe." 

"Acquyte  him  wel,  for  Goddes  love,"  quod  he; 

"My-self  to  medes  wol  the  lettre  sowe," 

And  held  his  hondes  up,  and  sat  on  knowe, 

"Now  goode  nece,  be  it  nevere  so  lyte, 

Yif  me  the  labour  it  to  sowe  and  plyte." 

"Ye,  for  I  can  so  wryte,"  quod  she  tho; 
"And  eek  I  noot  what  I  sholde  to  him  seye." 
"Nay,  nece,"  quod  Pandare,  "sey  not  so. 
Yet  at  the  leste  thanketh  him,  I  preye, 
Of  his  good  wille,  and  doth  him  not  to  deye. 
Now  for  the  love  of  me,  my  nece  dere, 
Refuseth  not  at  this  tyme^  my  preyere." 

" Depar-dieux,"  quod  she,  "God  leve  al  be  wel! 
God  helpe  me  so,  this  is  the  firste  lettre 
That  evere  I  wroot,  ye,  al  or  any  del." 
And  in-to  a  closet,  for  to  avyse  hir  bettre, 
She  wente  allone,  and  gan  hir  herte  unfettre 
Out  of  disdaynes  prison  but  a  lyte; 
And  sette  hir  doun  and  gan  a  lettre  wryte, 

Of  which  to  telle  in  short  is  myn  entente 
Theffect  as  fer  as  I  can  understonde: — 
She  thonked  him  of  al  that  he  wel  mente 
Towardes  hir,  but  holden  him  in  honde 
She  nolde  nought,  ne  make  hir-selven  bonde 
In  love,  but  as  hir  suster  him  to  plese 
She  wolde  fayn,  to  doon  his  herte  an  ese. 

Sk.,  II,  1191-1225 


146  CHAUCER  11,890-924 

She  shette  it,  and  to  Pandarus  gan  goon, 

Ther  as  he  sat  and  loked  in-to  strete, 

And  doun  she  sette  hir  by  him  on  a  stoon 

Of  laspre,  up-on  a  quisshin  gold  y-bete, 

And  seyde,  "As  wisly  helpe  me  God  the  grete, 

I  nevere  did  a  thing  with  more  peyne 

Than  wryte  this,  to  which  ye  me  constreyne;" 

And  took  it  him.  He  thonked  hir  and  seyde: 
"  God  woot,  of  thing  ful  of te  looth  bigonne 
Cometh  ende  good;  and  nece  myn,  Criseyde, 
That  ye  to  him  of  hard  now  ben  y-wonne 
Oughte  he  be  glad,  by  God  and  yonder  sonne! 
For- why  men  sey th,  '  Impressiounes  lighte 
Ful  lightly  been  ay  redy  to  the  flighte.'" 

And  right  as  they  declamed  this  matere, 
Lo,  Troilus,  right  at  the  stretes  ende, 
Com  ryding  with  his  tenthe  som  y-fere 
Al  softely,  and  thiderward  gan  bende 
Ther-as  they  sete,  as  was  his  wey  to  wende 
To  paleys-ward.    And  Pandare  him  aspyde, 
And  seyde,  "Nece,  y-see  who  cometh  here  ryde! 

"O  flee  not  in! — he  seeth  us,  I  suppose, — 
Lest  he  may  thinke  that  ye  him  eschuwe." 
"Nay,  nay,"  quod  she,  and  wex  as  reed  as  rose. 
With  that  he  gan  hir  humbly  to  saluwe, 
With  dreedful  chere,  and  ofte  his  hewes  muwe; 
And  up  his  look  debonairly  he  caste, 
And  bekkede  on  Pandare,  and  forth  he  paste. 

Pandare,  which  that  stood  hir  faste  by, 

Felte  iren  hoot,  and  he  bigan  to  smyte, 

And  seyde,  "Nece,  I  pray  yow  hertely, 

Tel  me  that  I  shal  axen  yow  a  lyte. 

A  womman,  that  were  of  his  deeth  to  wyte 

With-outen  gilt  but  for  hir  lakkede  routhe, 

Were  it  wel  doon?  "  Quod  she,  "  Nay,  by  my  trouthe! " 

Sk.,n,  1226-1239;  1247-1260;  1275-1281 


11,925-959  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  147 

"God  help?  me  so,"  quod  he,  "ye  sey  me  sooth. 

Ye  felen  wel  your-self  that  I  not  lye. 

Lo,  yond  he  rit!"  Quod  she,  "Ye,  so  he  dooth." 

"Wel,"  quod  Pandare,  "as  I  have  told  yow  thrye, 

Lat  be  your  nyce  shame  and  your  folye, 

And  spek  with  him  in  esing  of  his  herte. 

Lat  nyce  tee  not  do  yow  bothe  smerte." 

But  ther-on  was  to  heven  and  to  done: 

Considered  al  thing  it  may  not  be; 

And  why?  for  shame;  and  it  were  eek  to  sone 

To  graunten  him  so  greet  a  libertee. 

For  playnly  hir  entente,  as  seyde  she, 

Was  for  to  love  him  unwist  if  she  mighte, 

And  guerdon  him  with  no-thing  but  with  sighte. 

But  Pandarus  thoughte,  "It  shal  not  be  so, 

If  that  I  may.  This  nyce  opinioun 

Shal  not  be  holden  fully  yeres  two." 

What  sholde  I  make  of  this  a  long  sermoun? 

He  moste  assente  on  that  conclusioun 

As  for  the  tyme;  and  whan  that  it  was  eve, 

And  al  was  wel,  he  roos  and  took  his  leve. 

And  on  his  wey  ful  faste  homward  he  spedde, 

And  right  for  loye  he  felte  his  herte  daunce; 

And  Troilus  he  fond  alone  a-bedde, 

That  lay  as  dooth  these  loveres,  in  a  traunce, 

Bitwixen  hope  and  derk  desesperaunce. 

But  Pandarus  right  at  his  in-cominge 

He  song,  as  who  seyth,  "Lo!  sumwhat  I  bringe." 

And  seyde,  "Who  is  in  his  bed  so  sone 
Y-buried  thus?"  "It  am  I,  freend,"  quod  he. 
"Who  Troilus?  Nay,  helpe  me  so  the  mone," 
Quod  Pandarus,  "thou  shalt  aryse  and  see 
A  charme  that  was  sent  right  now  to  thee, 
The  which  can  helen  thee  of  thyn  accesse, 
If  thou  do  forth- with  al  thy  beainesse." 

Sk.,  II,  1282-1316 


148  CHAUCER  11,960-994 

"Ye,  through  the  might  of  God!"  quod  Troilus. 

And  Pandarus  gan  him  the  lettre  take, 

And  seyde,  "Pardee,  God  hath  holpen  us. 

Have  heer  a  light,  and  loke  on  al  this  blake." 

But  ofte  gan  the  herte  glade  and  quake 

Of  Troilus,  whyl  that  he  gan  it  rede, 

So  as  the  wordes  yave  him  hope  or  drede. 

But  fynally,  he  took  al  for  the  beste 

That  she  him  wroot,  for  sumwhat  he  biheld 

On  which,  him  thoughte,  he  mighte  his  herte  reste, 

Al  covered  she  the  wordes  under  sheld. 

Thus  to  the  more  worthy  part  he  held, 

That,  what  for  hope  and  Pandarus  biheste, 

His  grete  wo  for-yede  he  at  the  leste. 

Wherfore  I  seye  alwey  that  day  and  night 

This  Troilus  gan  to  desiren  more 

Than  he  did  erst,  thurgh  hope,  and  did  his  might 

To  pressen  on,  as  by  Pandarus  lore, 

And  wryten  to  hir  of  his  sorwes  sore 

Fro  day  to  day.  He  leet  it  not  refreyde 

That  by  Pandare  he  wroot  somwhat  or  seyde. 

But  to  Pandare  alwey  was  his  recours, 

And  pitously  gan  ay  til  him  to  pleyne, 

And  him  bisoughte  of  rede  and  som  socours. 

And  Pandarus,  that  sey  his  wode  peyne, 

Wex  wel  neigh  deed  for  routhe,  sooth  to  seyne, 

And  bisily  with  al  his  herte  caste 

Som  of  his  wo  to  sleen,  and  that  as  faste. 

And  seyde,  "Lord  and  freend  and  brother  dere, 
God  woot  that  thy  disese  dooth  me  wo. 
But  woltow  stinten  al  this  woful  chere, 
And,  by  my  trouthe,  or  it  be  dayes  two, 
And  God  to-forn,  yet  shal  I  shape  it  so 
That  thou  shalt  come  in-to  a  certayn  place, 
Ther-as  thou  mayst  thy-self  hir  preye  of  grace. 

Sk.,11,  1317-1330;  1338-1344;  1352-1365 


n.995-1029  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  149 

"But  Troilus,  yet  tell?  me,  if  thee  lest, 

A  thing  now  which  that  I  shal  axen  thee: 

Which  is  thy  brother  that  thou  lovest  best 

As  in  thy  verray  hertes  privetee?  " 

"  Y-wis,  my  brother  Deiphebus,"  quod  he. 

"Now,"  quod  Pandare,  "er  houres  twyes  twelve, 

He  shal  thee  ese  unwist  of  it  him-selve. 

"Now  lat  me  allone  and  werken  as  I  may/' 
Quod  he;  and  to  Deiphebus  wente  he  tho 
Which  had  his  lord  and  grete  freend  ben  ay. 
Save  Troilus  no  man  he  loved?  so. 
To  telle  in  short,  with-outen  wordes  mo, 
Quod  Pandarus,  "I  pray  yow  that  he  be 

Freend  to  a  cause  which  that  toucheth  me." 

i 

"  Yis,  pardee,"  quod  Deiphebus,  "  wel  thow  wost, 

In  al  that  evere  I  may,  and  God  to-fore, 

Al  nere  it  but  for  man  I  love  most, 

My  brother  Troilus.    But  sey  wherfore 

It  is;  for  sith  that  day  that  I  was  bore, 

I  nas,  ne  nevere-mo  to  been  I  thinke, 

Ayeins  a  thing  that  mighte  thee  for- thinke." 

Pandare  gan  him  thonke,  and  to  him  seyde, 
"Lo,  sir,  I  have  a  lady  in  this  toun 
That  is  my  nece,  and  called  is  Criseyde, 
Which  som  men  wolden  doon  oppressioun 
And  wrongfully  have  hir  possessioun. 
Wherfore  I  of  your  lordship  yow  biseche 
To  been  our  freend,  with-oute  more  speche." 

Deiphebus  him  answerde,  "O,  is  not  this, 
That  thow  spekest  of  to  me  thus  straungely, 
Criseyda  my  freend?  "    He  seyde,  "  Yis." 
"Than  nedeth,"  quod  Deiphebus  hardely, 
"Na-more  to  speke;  for  trusteth  wel  that  I 
Wol  be  hir  champioun  with  spore  and  yerde. 
I  roughte  nought  though  alle  hir  foos  it  herde. 

Sk.,II,  1394-1428 


150  CHAUCER  11,1030-106* 

"But  telle  me,  thou  that  woost  al  this  matere, 
How  I  might  best  avaylen?    Now,  lat  see." 
Quod  Pandarus,  "If  ye,  my  lord  so  dere, 
Wolden  as  now  don  this  honour  to  me, 
To  prayen  hir  to-morwe,  lo,  that  she 
Com  un-to  yow  hir  playntes  to  devyse, 
Hir  adversaries  wolde  of  hit  agryse. 

"And  if  I  more  dorste  preye  as  now, 
And  chargen  yow  to  have  so  greet  travayle, 
To  han  som  of  your  bretheren  heer  with  yow 
That  mighten  to  hir  cause  bet  avayle, 
That  woot  I  wel  she  mighte  nevere  fayle 
For  to  be  holpen,  what  at  your  instaunce, 

What  with  hir  othere  freendes  governaunce." 

i 

Deiphebus,  which  that  comen  was  of  kinde 
To  al  honour  and  bountee  to  consente, 
Answerde,  "It  shal  be  doon.    And  I  can  finde 
Yet  gretter  help  to  this  in  myn  entente. 
What  wolt  thow  seyn  if  I  for  Eleyne  sente 
To  speke  of  this?    I  trowe  it  be  the  beste; 
For  she  may  leden  Paris  as  hir  leste. 

"Of  Ector,  which  that  is  my  lord,  my  brother, 
It  nedeth  nought  to  preye  him  freend  to  be. 
For  I  have  herd  him  o  tyme  and  eek  other 
Speke  of  Criseyde  swich  honour  that  he 
May  seyn  no  bet,  swich  hap  to  him  hath  she. 
It  nedeth  nought  his  helpes  for  to  crave; 
He  shal  be  swich  right  as  we  wole  him  have. 

"Spek  thou  thy-self  also  to  Troilus 

On  my  bihalve,  and  pray  him  with  us  dyne." 

"Sir,  al  this  shal  be  doon,"  quod  Pandarus; 

And  took  his  leve,  and  nevere  gan  to  fyne, 

But  to  his  neces  hous  as  streyt  as  lyne 

He  com;  and  fond  hir  fro  the  mete  aryse; 

And  sette  him  doun,  and  spak  right  in  this  wyse. 

Sk.,11,  1429-1463 


n.1065-1099          TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  151 

He  seyde,  "O  veray  God,  so  have  I  ronne! 

Lo,  nece  myn,  see  ye  nought  how  I  swete? 

I  noot  whether  ye  the  more  thank  me  conne. 

Be  ye  nought  war  how  that  fals  Poliphete 

Is  now  aboute  eft-sones  for  to  plete 

And  bringe  on  yow  advocacies  newe?" 

"I?    No,"  quod  she,  and  chaunged  al  hir  hewe. 

"What  is  he  more  aboute?  me  to  drecche 
And  doon  me  wrong?    What  shal  I  do,  alias? 
Yet  of  him-self  no-thing  ne  wolde  I  recche, 
Nere  it  for  Antenor  and  Eneas, 
That  been  his  freendes  in  swich  maner  cas. 
But  for  the  love  of  God,  myn  uncle  dere, 
No  lors  of  that,  lat  him  have  al  y-fere; 

"Withouten  that,  I  have  ynough  for  us." 
"Nay,"  quod  Pandare,  ''it  shal  no-thing  be  so. 
For  I  have  been  right  now  at  Deiphebus 
And  Ector  and  myn  othere  lordes  mo, 
And  shortly  maked  ech  of  hem  his  fo, 
That  by  my  thrift,  he  shal  it  nevere  winne 
For  ought  he  can,  whan  that  so  he  biginne." 

And  as  they  casten  what  was  best  to  done, 
Deiphebus  of  his  owene  curtasye 
Com  hir  to  preye  in  his  propre  persone 
To  holde  him  on  the  morwe  companye 
At  diner,  which  she  nolde  not  denye, 
But  goodly  gan  to  his  preyere  obeye. 
He  thonked  hir,  and  wente  up-on  his  weye. 

Whan  this  was  doon,  this  Pandare  up  a-noon, 

To  telle  in  short,  and  forth  gan  for  to  wende 

To  Troilus  as  stille  as  any  stoon, 

And  al  this  thing  he  tolde  him  word  and  ende, 

And  how  that  he  Deiphebus  gan  to  blende. 

And  seyde  him,  "Now  is  tyme,  if  that  thou  conne, 

To  bere.  thee  wel  to-morwe  and  al  is  wonne. 

Sk.,  II,  1464-1498 


152  CHAUCER  11,1100-1134 

"Thow  shalt  gon  over  night,  and  that  as  blyve, 
Un-to  Deiphebus  hous  as  thee  to  pleye, 
Thy  maladye  a-wey  the  bet  to  dryve, 
For- why  thou  semest  syk,  soth  for  to  seye. 
Sone  after  that,  doun  in  thy  bed  thee  leye 
And  sey  thow  mayst  no  lenger  up  endure, 
And  ly  right  ther,  and  byd  thyn  aventure. 

uSey  that  thy  fevere  is  wont  thee  for  to  take 
The  same  tyme  and  lasten  til  a-morwe. 
And  lat  see  now  how  wel  thou  canst  it  make; 
For  par-dee,  syk  is  he  that  is  in  sorwe. 
Go  now,  farwel!    And,  Venus  heer  to  borwe, 
I  hope,  and  thou  this  purpos  holde  ferme, 
Thy  grace  she  shal  fully  ther  conferme." 

Quod  Troilus,  "Y-wis,  thou  nedelees 

Counseylest  me  that  sykliche  I  me  feyne! 

For  I  am  syk  in  ernest,  doutelees, 

So  that  wel  neigh  I  sterve  for  the  peyne." 

Quod  Pandarus,  "Thou  shalt  the  bettre  pleyne, 

And  hast  the  lasse  nede  to  countrefete; 

For  him  men  demen  hoot  that  men  seen  swete. 

"Lo,  hold  thee  at  thy  triste  cloos,  and  I 
Shal  wel  the  deer  un-to  thy  bowe  dryve." 
Therwith  he  took  his  leve  al  softely, 
And  Trcolus  to  paleys  wente  blyve. 
So  glad  ne  was  he  nevere  in  al  his  lyve; 
And  to  Pandarus  reed  gan  al  assente, 
And  to  Deiphebus  hous  at  night  he  wente. 

What  nedeth  yow  to  tellen  al  the  chere 

That  Deiphebus  un-to  his  brother  made, 

Or  his  accesse,  or  his  syklych  manere, 

How  men  gan  him  with  clothes  for  to  lade 

Whan  he  was  leyd,  and  how  men  wolde  him  glade? 

But  al  for  nought;  he  held  forth  ay  the  wyse 

That  ye  han  herd  Pandare  er  this  devyse. 

Sk.,11,  T513-1547 


n.1135-1169         TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  153 

But  certayn  is,  er  Troilus  him  leyde, 
Deiphebus  had  him  prayed  over  night 
To  been  a  freend  and  helping  to  Criseyde. 
God  woot  that  he  it  grauntede  anon-right 
To  been  hir  fulle  freend  with  al  his  might. 
But  swich  a  nede  was  to  preye  him  thenne, 
As  for  to  bidde  a  wood  man  for  to  renne. 

The  morwen  com,  and  neighen  gan  the  tyme 
Of  meel-tyde,  that  the  faire  quene  Eleyne 
Shoop  hir  to  been,  an  houre  after  the  pryme, 
With  Deiphebus,  to  whom  she  nolde  feyne; 
But  as  his  suster,  hoomly,  sooth  to  seyne, 
She  com  to  diner  in  hir  playn  entente. 
But  God  and  Pandare  wiste  al  what  this  mente. 

Com  eek  Criseyde,  al  innocent  of  this. 
Antigone,  hir  suster  Tarbe  also. 
But  flee  we  now  prolixitee  best  is, 
For  love  of  God,  and  lat  us  faste  go 
Right  to  the  effect  with-oute  tales  mo, 
Why  al  this  folk  assembled  in  this  place, 
And  lat  us  of  hir  saluinges  pace. 

Gret  honour  did  hem  Deiphebus  certeyn, 
And  fedde  hem  wel  with  al  that  mighte  lyke. 
But  evere-more,  " Alias!"  was  his  refreyn, 
"My  goode  brother  Troilus,  the  syke, 
Lyth  yet" — and  therwith-al  he  gan  to  syke. 
And  after  that  he  peyned  him  to  glade 
Hem  as  he  mighte,  and  chere  good  he  made. 

Compleyned  eek  Eleyne  of  his  syknesse 

So  feithfully  that  pitee  was  to  here, 

And  every  wight  gan  waxen  for  accesse 

A  leche  anoon,  and  seyde,  "In  this  manere 

Men  curen  folk;  this  charme  I  wol  yow  lere." 

But  ther  sat  oon,  al  list  hir  nought  to  teche, 

That  though te,  "  Best  coude  I  yet  been  his  leche!" 

Sk.,  II,  1548-1582 


154  CHAUCER  11,1170-1204 

The  tyme  com  fro  diner  for  to  ryse, 
And,  as  hem  oughte,  arisen  everychoon, 
And  gonne  a  while  of  this  and  that  devyse. 
But  Pandarus  brak  al  this  speche  anoon 
And  seyde  to  Deiphebus,  "Wole  ye  goon, 
If  it  your  wille  be,  as  I  yow  preyde, 
To  speke  heer  of  the  nedes  of  Criseyde?" 

Eleyne,  which  that  by  the  hond  hir  held, 

Took  first  the  tale,  and  seyde,  "Go  we  blyve!" 

And  goodly  on  Criseyde  she  biheld, 

And  seyde,  "  loves  lat  him  nevere  thryve 

That  dooth  yow  harm,  and  bringe  him  sone  of  lyve! 

And  yeve  me  sorwe  but  he  shal  it  rewe 

If  that  I  may  and  alle  folk  be  trewe." 

"Telle  thou  thy  neces  cas,"  quod  Deiphebus 

To  Pandarus,  "for  thou  canst  best  it  telle." — 

"My  lordes  and  my  ladyes,  it  stant  thus: 

What  sholde  I  lenger,"  quod  he,  "do  yow  dwelle?" 

He  rong  hem  out  a  proces  lyk  a  belle 

Up-on  hir  fo,  that  highte  Poliphete, 

So  heynous  that  men  mighte  on  it  spete. 

Spak  than  Eleyne,  and  seyde,  "Pandarus, 

Woot  ought  my  lord,  my  brother,  this  matere, 

I  mene  Ector?  or  woot  it  Troilus?" 

He  seyde,  "Ye,  but  wole  ye  now  me  here? 

Me  thinketh  this,  sith  Troilus  is  here 

It  were  good,  if  that  ye  wolde  assente, 

She  tolde  hir-self  him  al  this  er  she  wente. 

"For  he  wole  have  the  more  hir  grief  at  herte 

By-cause,  lo,  that  she  a  lady  is. 

And  by  your  leve  I  wol  but  right  in  sterte 

And  do  you  wite,  and  that  anoon,  y-wis, 

If  that  he  slepe,  or  wole  ought  here  of  this." 

And  in  he  lepte,  and  seyde  him  in  his  ere, 

"God  have  thy  soule,  y-brought  have  I  thy  bere!" 

Sk.,n,  1597-1617;  1625-1638 


n.1205-1239         TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  155 

To  smylen  of  this  gan  tho  Troilus, 

And  Pandarus  with-oute  rekeninge 

Oute  wente  anoon  to  Eleyne  and  Deiphebus, 

And  seyde  hem,  "So  ther  be  no  taryinge, 

Ne  more  pres,  he  wol  wel  that  ye  bringe 

Criseyda,  my  lady,  that  is  here; 

And  as  he  may  enduren,  he  wole  here. 

"But  wel  ye  woot  the  chaumbre  is  but  lyte, 

And  fewe  folk  may  lightly  make  it  warm. 

Now  loketh  ye — for  I  wol  have  no  wyte 

To  bringe  in  prees  that  mighte  doon  him  harm 

Or  him  disesen,  for  my  bettre  arm! — 

Wher  it  be  bet  she  byde  til  eft-sones, 

Now  loketh  ye  that  knowen  what  to  doon  is. 

"I  sey  for  me,  best  is,  as  I  can  knowe, 
That  no  wight  in  ne  wente  but  ye  tweye, 
But  it  were  I;  for  I  can  in  a  thro  we 
Reherce  hir  cas  unlyk  that  she  can  seye; 
And  after  this  she  may  him  ones  preye 
To  ben  good  lord,  in  short,  and  take  hir  leve. 
This  may  not  muchel  of  his  ese  him  reve. 

"And  eek,  for  she  is  straunge,  he  wol  forbere 
His  ese,  which  that  him  thar  nought  for  yow. 
Eek  other  thing  that  toucheth  not  to  here 
He  wol  me  telle,  I  woot  it  wel  right  now, 
That  secret  is  and  for  the  tounes  prow." 
And  they,  that  no-thing  knewe  of  this  entente, 
With-oute  more  to  Troilus  in  they  wente. 

Eleyne  in  al  hir  goodly  sof te  wyse 
Gan  him  saluwe,  and  womanly  to  pleye, 
And  seyde,  "  Y-wis,  ye  moste  alweys  aryse! 
Now  fayre  brother,  beth  al  hool,  I  preye!" 
And  gan  hir  arm  right  over  his  sholder  leye, 
And  him  with  al  hir  wit  to  recomforte. 
As  she  best  coude,  she  gan  him  to  disporte. 

Sk.,  II,  1639-1673 


156  CHAUCER  n,  1240-1274 

So  after  this  quod  she,  "We  yow  biseke, 
Me  dere  brother,  Deiphebus,  and  I, 
For  love  of  God,  and  so  doth  Pandare  eke, 
To  been  good  lord  and  freend  right  hertely 
Un-to  Criseyde,  which  that  certeinly 
Receyveth  wrong,  as  woot  wel  heer  Pandare, 
That  can  hir  cas  wel  bet  than  I  declare." 

This  Pandarus  gan  newe  his  tunge  affyle, 
And  al  hir  cas  reherce,  and  that  anoon. 
Whan  it  was  seyd,  sone  after  in  a  whyle, 
Quod  Troilus,  "As  sone  as  I  may  goon, 
I  wol  right  fayn  with  al  my  might  ben  oon, 
Have  God  my  trouthe,  hir  cause  to  sustene." 
"Good  thrift  have  ye,"  quod  Eleyne  the  quene. 

Quod  Pandarus,  "And  it  your  wille  be 
That  she  may  take  hir  leve  er  that  she  go?" 
"Or  dies  God  for-bede,"  tho  quod  he, 
"If  that  she  vouche  sauf  for  to  do  so." 
And  with  that  word  quod  Troilus,  "Ye  two, 
Deiphebus,  and  my  suster  leef  and  dere, 
To  yow  have  I  to  speke  of  o  matere, 

"  To  been  avysed  by  your  reed  the  bettre:" — 
And  fond,  as  hap  was,  at  his  beddes  heed 
The  copie  of  a  tretis  and  a  lettre 
That  Ector  had  him  sent  to  axen  reed. 
If  swich  a  man  was  worthy  to  ben  deed, 
Woot  I  nought  who;  but  in  a  grisly  wyse 
He  preyede  hem  anoon  on  it  avyse. 

Deiphebus  gan  this  lettre  to  unfolde 
In  ernest  greet;  so  did  Eleyne  the  quene. 
And  roming  outward  faste  it  gan  biholde, 
Downward  a  steyre  in-to  an  herber  grene. 
This  ilke  thing  they  redden  hem  bi-twene, 
And  largely  the  mountaunce  of  an  houre 
They  gonne  on  it  to  reden  and  to  poure. 

Sk.,  II,  1674-1708 


n,i27s-i309          TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  157 

Now  lat  hem  rede,  and  turne  we  anoon 
To  Pandarus,  that  gan  ful  faste  prye 
That  al  was  wel,  and  oute  he  gan  to  goon 
In-to  the  grete  chambre  and  that  in  hye, 
And  seyde,  "God  save  al  this  company e! 
Com,  nece  myn;  my  lady  quene  Eleyne, 
Abydeth  yow,  and  eek  my  lordes  tweyne. 

"Rys,  take  with  yow  your  nece  Antigone, 
Or  whom  yow  list,  or  no  fors,  hardily: 
The  lasse  prees,  the  bet;  com  forth  with  me. 
And  loke  that  ye  thonke  humblely 
Hem  alle  three  and,  whan  ye  may  goodly 
Your  tyme  y-see,  taketh  of  hem  your  leve 
Lest  we  to  longe  his  restes  him  bireve." 

Al  innocent  of  Pandarus  entente 

Quod  tho  Criseyde,  "Go  we,  uncle  dere." 

And  arm  in  arm  inward  with  him  she  wente, 

Avysed  wel  hir  wordes  and  hir  chere. 

And  Pandarus  in  ernestful  manere 

Seyde,  "Alle  folk,  for  Goddes  love  I  preye, 

Stinteth  right  heer  and  softely  yow  pleye. 

"Avyseth  yow  what  folk  ben  heer  with-inne, 

And  in  what  plyt  oon  is,  God  him  amende! 

And  inward  thus  ful  softely  biginne. 

Nece,  I  coniure  and  heighly  yow  defende, 

On  his  half  which  that  sowle  us  alle  sende, 

And  in  the  vertu  of  corounes  tweyne, 

Slee  nought  this  man  that  hath  for  yow  this  peyne! 

"Fy  on  the  devel!  thenk  which  oon  he  is 
And  in  what  plyt  he  lyth.  Com  of  anoon! 
Thenk  al  swich  taried  tyde  but  lost  it  nis! 
That  wol  ye  bothe  seyn  whan  ye  ben  oon. 
Secoundelich,  ther  yet  devyneth  noon 
Up-on  yow  two:  com  of  now  if  ye  conne! 
Whyl  folk  is  blent,  lo!  al  the  tyme  is  wonne!" 

Sk.,II,  1709-1743 


158  CHAUCER  11, 1310-1315,  m,  1-21 

But  now  to  yow,  ye  lovers  that  ben  here, 

Was  Troilus  nought  in  a  cankedort, 

That  lay  and  mighte  whispring  of  hem  here, 

And  though te,  "  O  Lord,  right  now  renneth  my  sort 

Fully  to  dye  or  han  anoon  comfort!" 

And  was  the  firste  tyme  he  shulde  hir  preye 

Of  love:  O  mighty  God,  what  shal  he  seye? 

Explicit  Secundus  Liber. 


BOOK  III 

Incipit  Liber  Tercius 

O  blisful  light,  of  which  the  bemes  clere 
Adorneth  al  the  thridde  hevene  faire! 
O  sonnes  leef,  O  loves  doughter  dere, 
Plesaunce  of  love,  O  goodly  debonaire, 
In  gentil  hertes  ay  redy  to  repaire! 
O  verray  cause  of  hele  and  of  gladnesse, 
Y-heried  be  thy  might  and  thy  goodnesse! 

Ye  in  my  naked  herte  sentement 

Inhelde,  and  do  me  shewe  of  thy  swetnesse. 

Caliope,  thy  vois  be  now  present, 

For  now  is  nede:  sestow  not  my  destresse, 

How  I  mot  telle  anon-right  the  gladnesse 

Of  Troilus,  to  Venus  heryinge? 

To  which  gladnesse,  who  nede  hath,  God  him  bringe! 

Lay  al  this  mene  whyle  Troilus 

Recording  his  lessoun  in  this  manere: 

"Ma  fey!"  thoughte  he,  "thus  wol  I  seye  and  thus; 

Thus  wol  I  pleyne  un-to  my  lady  dere; 

That  word  is  good,  and  this  shal  be  my  chere; 

This  nil  I  not  foryeten  in  no  wyse." 

God  leve  him  werken  as  he  gan  devyse. 

Sk.,  II,  1751-1757;  III,  1-7;  43-56 


m.22-56  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  159 

And  Lord!  so  that  his  herte  gan  to  quappe, 
Hering  hir  come,  and  shorte  for  to  syke! 
And  Pandarus,  that  ladde  hir  by  the  lappe, 
Com  ner,  and  gan  in  at  the  curtin  pyke, 
And  seyde,  "God  do  bote  on  alle  syke! 
See  who  is  heer  yow  comen  to  visyte: 
Lo,  heer  is  she  that  is  your  deeth  to  wyte!" 

Ther-with  it  semed  as  he  wepte  almost. 
"A  ha!';  quod  Troilus  so  rewfully, 
"Wher  me  be  wo,  O  mighty  God,  thou  wost! 
Who  is  al  ther?  I  see  nought  trewely." 
"Sire,"  quod  Criseyde,  "it  is  Pandare  and  I." 
"Ye,  swete  herte?  Alias,  I  may  not  ryse 
To  knele,  and  do  yow  honour  in  som  wyse." 

And  dressede  him  upward,  and  she  right  tho 
Gan  bothe  here  hondes  sof  te  upon  him  leye. 
"O,  for  the  love  of  God,  do  ye  not  so 
To  me!"  quod  she;  "Ey!  what  is  this  to  seye? 
Sir,  come  am  I  to  yow  for  causes  tweye: 
First,  yow  to  thonke,  and  of  your  lordship  eke 
Continuaunce  I  wolde  yow  biseke." 

This  Troilus,  that  herde  his  lady  preye 
Of  lordship  him,  wex  neither  quik  ne  deed, 
Ne  mighte  a  word  for  shame  to  it  seye, 
Al- though  men  sholde  smyten  of  his  heed. 
But  Lord,  so  he  wex  sodeinliche  reed! 
And  sire,  his  lesson,  that  he  wende  conne 
To  preyen  hir,  is  thurgh  his  wit  y-ronne. 

Cryseyde  al  this  aspyede  wel  y-nough, 

For  she  was  wys  and  lovede  him  nevere-the-lasse, 

Al  nere  he  malapert  or  made  it  tough, 

Or  was  to  bold  to  singe  a  fool  a  masse, 

But  whan  his  shame  gan  somwhat  to  passe, 

His  resons,  as  I  may  my  rymes  holde, 

I  yow  wol  telle  as  techen  bokes  olde. 

Sk.,  Ill,  57-91 


160  CHAUCER 


III,  57-91 


In  chaunged  vois,  right  for  his  verray  drede, 
Which  vois  eek  quook,  and  ther-to  his  manere 
Goodly  abayst,  and  now  his  hewes  rede, 
Now  pale,  un-to  Criseyde,  his  lady  dere, 
With  look  doun  cast  and  humble  yolden  chere, 
Lo,  the  alderfirste  word  that  him  asterte 
Was  twyes,  "Mercy,  mercy,  swete  herte!" 

And  stinte  a  whyle,  and  whan  he  mighte  out-bringe, 

The  nexte  word  was,  "God  wot,  for  I  have, 

As  feythfully  as  I  have  had  konninge, 

Ben  youres,  also  God  my  sowle  save! 

And  shal  til  that  I,  woful  wight,  be  grave. 

And  though  I  dar  ne  can  un-to  yow  pleyne, 

Y-wis,  I  suffre  nought  the  lasse  peyne. 

"Thus  muche  as  now,  O  wommanliche  wyf, 
I  may  out-bringe,  and  if  this  yow  displese, 
That  shal  I  wreke  upon  myn  owne  lyf 
Right  sone,  I  trowe,  and  doon  your  herte  an  ese, 
If  with  my  deeth  your  herte  I  may  apese. 
But  sin  that  ye  han  herd  me  somwhat  seye, 
Now  recche  I  nevere  how  sone  that  I  deye." 

Ther-with  his  manly  sorwe  to  biholde 
It  mighte  han  maad  an  herte  of  stoon  to  rewe. 
And  Pandare  weep  as  he  to  watre  wolde, 
And  poked  evere  his  nece  newe  and  newe, 
And  seyde,  "Wo  bigon  ben  hertes  trewe! 
For  love  of  God,  make  of  this  thing  an  ende. 
Or  slee  us  bothe  at  ones  er  ye  wende!" 

"I?  what?*'  quod  she,  "by  God  and  by  my  trouthe, 

I  noot  nought  what  ye  wilne  that  I  seye." 

"I?  what?"  quod  he,  "that  ye  han  on  him  routhe, 

For  Goddes  love,  and  doth  him  nought  to  deye." 

"Now  thanne  thus,"  quod  she,  "I  wolde  him  preye 

To  telle  me  the  fyn  of  his  entente. 

Yet  wiste  I  nevere  wel  what  that  he  mente." 

Sk.,  Ill,  97-126 


in.  92-126  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  16i 

"What  that  I  mene,  O  swete  herte  dere?" 
Quod  Troilus,  "O  goodly  fresshe  free! 
That  with  the  stremes  of  your  eyen  clere 
Ye  wolde  som-tyme  freendly  on  me  see, 
And  thanne  agreen  that  I  may  ben  he, 
With-oute  braunche  of  vyce  in  any  wyse, 
In  trouthe  alwey  to  doon  yow  my  servyse. 

"And  I  to  ben  your  verray  humble  trewe, 

Secret,  and  in  my  paynes  pacient, 

And  evere-mo  desire  freshly  newe 

To  serven  and  been  y-lyke  diligent, 

And  with  good  herte  al  hoolly  your  talent 

Receyven  wel,  how  sore  that  me  smerte, — 

Lo,  this  mene  I,  myn  owene  swete  herte." 

Quod  Pandarus,  "Lo,  heer  an  hard  requeste, 
And  resonable  a  lady  for  to  werne! 
Now  nece  myn,  by  natal  loves  feste, 
Were  I  a  god,  ye  sholde  sterve  as  yerne, 
That  heren  wel  this  man  wol  no-thing  yerne 
But  your  honour,  and  seen  him  almost  sterve, 
And  been  so  looth  to  suffren  him  yow  serve." 

With  that  she  gan  hir  eyen  on  him  caste 
Ful  esily  and  ful  debonairly, 
Avysing  hir,  and  hyed  not  to  faste 
With  nevere  a  word,  but  seyde  him  softely, 
"Myn  honour  sauf,  I  wol  wel  trewely, 
And  in  swich  forme  as  he  can  now  devyse 
Receyven  him  fully  to  my  servyse, 

"Biseching  him  for  Goddes  love  that  he 
Wolde  in  honour  of  trouthe  and  gentilesse, 
As  I  wel  mene,  eek  mene  wel  to  me, 
And  myn  honour  with  wit  and  besinesse 
Ay  kepe.    And  if  I  may  don  him  gladnesse 
From  hennes-forth,  y-wis,  I  nil  not  feyne. 
Now  beth  al  hool,  no  lenger  ye  ne  pleyne. 

Sk.,111,  127-133;  141-168 


162  CHAUCER  111,127-151 

"But  nathelees,  this  warne  I  yow,"  quod  she, 
"A  kinges  sone  al-though  ye  be,  y-wis, 
Ye  shul  na-more  have  soverainetee 
Of  me  in  love  than  right  in  that  cas  is. 
Ne  I  nil  forbere,  if  that  ye  doon  a-mis, 
To  wrathen  yow;  and  whyl  that  ye  me  serve, 
Cherycen  yow  right  after  ye  deserve. 

"And  shortly,  dere  herte  and  al  my  knight, 
Beth  glad,  and  draweth  yow  to  lustinesse, 
And  I  shal  trewely  with  al  my  might 
Your  bittre  tornen  al  in-to  swetnesse. 
If  I  be  she  that  may  yow  do  gladnesse, 
For  every  wo  ye  shal  recovere  a  blisse." 
And  him  in  armes  took,  and  gan  him  kisse. 

Fil  Pandarus  on  knees,  and  up  his  yen 
To  hevene  threw,  and  held  his  hondes  hye. 
"Immortal  God! "  quod  he,  "that  mayst nought  dyen, 
Cupide  I  mene,  of  this  mayst  glorifye. 
And  Venus,  thou  mayst  make  melodye! 
With-outen  hond,  me  semeth  that  in  towne 
For  this  merveyle  I  here  ech  belle  sowne. 

"But,  ho!  no  more  as  now  of  this  matere, 
For-why  this  folk  wol  comen  up  anoon 
That  han  the  lettre  red.    Lo,  I  hem  here. 
But  I  coniure  thee,  Criseyde,  and  oon 
And  two,  thou  Troilus,  whan  thow  mayst  goon, 
That  at  myn  hous  ye  been  at  my  warninge; 
For  I  ful  wel  shal  shape  your  cominge. 

"And  eseth  ther  your  hertes  right  y-nough; 

And  lat  see  which  of  yow  shal  bere  the  belle 

To  speke  of  love  a-right!"    Ther- with  he  lough. 

"For  ther  have  ye  a  layser  for  to  telle." 

Quod  Troilus,  "How  longe  shal  I  dwelle 

Er  this  be  doon? "   Quod  he,  "Whan  thou  mayst  ryse, 

This  thing  shal  be  right  as  I  yow  devyse." 

Sk.,III,  169-203 


m.162-196  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  163 

With  that  Eleyne  and  also  Deiphebus 

Tho  comen  upward,  right  at  the  steyres  ende; 

And  Lord!  so  than  gan  grone  Troilus, 

His  brother  and  his  suster  for  to  blende. 

Quod  Pandarus,  "It  tyme  is  that  we  wende. 

Tak,  nece  myn,  your  leve  at  alle  three, 

And  lat  hem  speke,  and  cometh  forth  with  me." 

She  took  hir  leve  at  hem  ful  thriftily, 

As  she  wel  coude,,and  they  hir  reverence 

Un-to  the  fulle  diden  hardely, 

And  speken  wonder  wel  in  hir  absence 

Of  hir  in  preysing  of  hir  excellence, 

Hir  governaunce,  hir  wit,  and  hir  manere 

Commendeden:  it  loye  was  to  here. 

Now  lat  hir  wende  un-to  hir  owne  place, 
And  torne  we  to  Troilus  a-yein, 
That  gan  ful  lightly  of  the  lettre  passe, 
That  Deiphebus  had  in  the  gardin  seyn. 
And  of  Eleyne  and  him  he  wolde  fayn 
Delivered  been,  and  seyde  that  him  leste 
To  slepe  and  after  tales  have  reste. 

Eleyne  him  kiste  and  took  hir  leve  blyve, 

Deiphebus  eek,  and  hoom  wente  every  wight. 

And  Pandarus  as  faste  as  he  may  dryve 

To  Troilus  tho  com  as  lyne  right. 

And  on  a  paillet  al  that  glade  night 

By  Troilus  he  lay  with  mery  chere 

To  tale;  and  wel  was  hem  they  were  y-fere. 

Whan  every  wight  was  voided  but  they  two, 

And  alle  the  dores  were  faste  y-shette, 

To  telle  in  short,  with-oute  wordes  mo, 

This  Pandarus  with-outen  any  lette 

Up  roos  and  on  his  beddes  syde  him  sette 

And  gan  to  speken  in  a  sobre  wyse 

To  Troilus,  as  I  shal  yow  devyse. 

Sk.,  HI  ,204-238 


164  CHAUCER  in,  197-231 

"Myn  alderlevest  lord  and  brother  dere, 
God  woot  and  thou  that  it  sat  me  ful  sore 
When  I  thee  saw  so  languisshing  to-yere 
For  love  of  which  thy  wo  wex  alwey  more; 
That  I  with  al  my  might  and  al  my  lore 
Have  evere  sithen  doon  my  bisinesse 
To  bringe  thee  to  loye  out  of  distresse; 

"And  have  it  brought  to  swich  plyt  as  thou  wost, 

So  that  thorugh  me  thow  stondest  now  in  weye 

To  fare  wel.    I  seye  it  for  no  bost, 

And  wostow  why?    For  shame  it  is  to  seye, 

For  thee  have  I  bigonne  a  gamen  pleye 

Which  that  I  nevere  doon  shal  eft  for  other 

Al-though  he  were  a  thousand  fold  my  brother. 

"That  is  to  seye,  for  thee  am  I  bicomen, 
Bitwixen  game  and  ernest,  swich  a  mene 
As  maken  wommen  un-to  men  to  comen: 
Al  sey  I  nought,  thou  wost  wel  what  I  mene. 
For  thee  have  I  my  nece,  of  vyces  clene, 
So  fully  maad  thy  gentilesse  triste 
That  al  shal  been  right  as  thy-selve  liste. 

"But  God,  that  al  wot,  take  I  to  witnesse 

That  nevere  I  this  for  coveityse  wroughte, 

But  only  for  to  abregge  that  distresse, 

For  which  wel  nygh  thou  deydest,  as  me  thoughte. 

But  gode  brother,  do  now  as  thee  oughte, 

For  Goddes  love,  and  keep  hir  out  of  blame, 

Sin  thou  art  wys,  and  save  alwey  hir  name. 

"  Wherfore,  er  I  wol  f erther  goon  a  pas, 
Yet  eft  I  thee  biseche  and  fully  seye 
That  privetee  go  with  us  in  this  cas, 
That  is  to  seye,  that  thou  us  nevere  wreye. 
And  be  nought  wrooth  though  I  thee  ofte  preye 
To  holden  secree  swich  an  heigh  matere; 
For  skilful  is,  thow  wost  wel,  my  preyere. 

Sk.,  in,  239-266;  281-287 


in.232-266          TROILUS  AND    CRISEYDE  165 

"For  wel  I  woot  thou  menest  wel,  parde: 
Therfore  I  dar  this  fully  undertake. 
Thou  wost  eek  what  thy  lady  graunted  thee, 
And  day  is  set  the  chartres  up  to  make. 
Have  now  good  night,  I  may  no  lenger  wake; 
And  bid  for  me  sin  thou  art  now  in  blisse 
That  God  me  sende  deeth  or  sone  lisse." 

Who  mighte  telle  half  the  loye  or  feste 
Which  that  the  sowle  of  Troilus  tho  felte, 
Hering  theffect  of  Pandarus  biheste? 
His  olde  wo  that  made  his  herte  swelte 
Gan  tho  for  loye  wasten  and  to-melte; 
And  al  the  richesse  of  his  sykes  sore 
At  ones  fledde,  he  felte  of  hem  no  more. 

And  gan  his  look  on  Pandarus  up  caste 

Ful  sobrely  and  frendly  for  to  see, 

And  seyde,  "Freend,  in  Aperil  the  la?te, 

As  wel  thou  wost  if  it  remembre  thee, 

How  neigh  the  deeth  for  wo  thou  founde  me; 

And  how  thou  didest  al  thy  bisinesse 

To  knowe  of  me  the  cause  of  my  distresse. 

"Thou  wost  how  longe  I  it  for-bar  to  seye 
To  thee  that  art  the  man  that  I  best  triste; 
And  peril  was  it  noon  to  thee  by-wreye, 
That  wiste  I  wel.  But  telle  me,  if  thee  liste, 
Sith  I  so  looth  was  that  thy-self  it  wiste 
How  dorste  I  mo  tellen  of  this  matere, 
That  quake  now  and  no  wight  may  us  here? 

"But  natheles  by  that  God  I  thee  swere 
That  as  him  list  may  al  this  world  governe, 
And,  if  I  lye,  Achilles  with  his  spere 
Myn  herte  cleve,  al  were  my  lyf  eterne 
As  I  am  mortal,  if  I  late  or  yerne 
Wolde  it  biwreye,  or  dorste,  or  sholde  conne, 
For  al  the  good  that  God  made  under  sonne. 

Sk.,  Ill,  337-350;  358-378 


166  CHAUCER  m,  267-301 

"But  heer  with  al  myn  herte  I  thee  biseche 
That  nevere  in  me  thou  deme  swich  folye 
As  I  shal  seyn:  me  thoughte  by  thy  speche 
That  this,  which  thou  me  dost  for  companye, 
I  sholde  wene  it  were  a  bauderye. 
I  am  nought  wood,  al-if  I  lewed  be; 
It  is  not  so,  that  woot  I  wel,  pardee! 

"And  that  thou  knowe  I  thenke  nought  ne  wene 

That  this  servyse  a  shame  be  or  lape, 

I  have  my  faire  suster  Polixene, 

Cassandre,  Eleyne,  or  any  of  the  frape. 

Be  she  nevere  so  faire  or  wel  y-shape, 

Telle  me  which  thou  wilt  of  everichone 

To  han  for  thyn,  and  lat  me  thanne  allone." 

Thus  held  him  ech  with  other  wel  apayed 
That  al  the  world  ne  mighte  it  bet  amende. 
And  on  the  morwe  whan  they  were  arayed, 
Ech  to  his  owene  nedes  gan  entende. 
But  Troilus,  though  as  the  fyr  he  brende 
For  sharp  desyr  of  hope  and  of  plesaunce, 
He  not  for-gat  his  gode  governaunce. 

But  certeyn  is,  to  purpos  for  to  go, 

That  in  this  whyle,  as  writen  is  in  geste, 

He  say  his  lady  som-tyme;  and  also 

She  with  him  spak  whan  that  she  dorste  or  leste. 

And  by  hir  bothe  avys  as  was  the  beste 

Apoynteden  ful  warly  in  this  nede, 

So  as  they  dorste,  how  they  wolde  precede. 

But  it  was  spoken  in  so  short  a  wyse, 
In  swich  awayt  alwey  and  in  swich  fere, 
Lest  any  wyght  divynen  or  devyse 
Wolde  of  hem  two,  or  to  it  leye  an  ere, 
That  al  this  world  so  leef  to  hem  ne  were 
As  that  Cupido  wolde  hem  grace  sende 
To  maken  of  hir  speche  aright  an  ende. 

Sk.,  Ill,  393-399;  407-413;  421-427;  449-462 


m.302-336  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  167 

And  shortly  of  this  proces  for  to  pace, 
So  wel  his  werk  and  wordes  he  bisette 
That  he  so  ful  stood  in  his  lady  grace 
That  twenty  thousand  tymes  or  she  lette 
She  thonked  God  she  evere  with  him  mette; 
So  coude  he  him  governe  in  swich  servyse 
That  al  the  world  ne  mighte  it  bet  devyse. 

But  now,  paraunter,  som  man  way  ten  wolde 

That  every  word  or  sonde  or  look  or  chere 

Of  Troilus  that  I  rehersen  sholde, 

In  al  this  whyle,  un-to  his  lady  dere: 

I  trowe  it  were  a  long  thing  for  to  here; 

Or  of  what  wight  that  stant  in  swich  disioynte, 

His  wordes  alle,  or  every  look,  to  poynte. 

But  to  the  grete  effect:  than  sey  I  thus, 
That  stonding  in  concord  and  in  quiete 
Thise  ilke  two,  Criseyde  and  Troilus, 
As  I  have  told,  and  in  this  tyme  swete, 
Save  only  often  mighte  they  not  mete, 
Ne  layser  have  hir  speches  to  fulfelle, 
That  it  befel  right  as  I  shal  yow  telle, 

That  Pandarus,  that  evere  did  his  might 
Right  for  the  fyn  that  I  shal  speke  of  here, 
As  for  to  bringe  to  his  hous  som  night 
His  faire  nece  and  Troilus  y-fere, 
Wher-as  at  leyser  al  this  heigh  matere 
Touching  hir  love  were  at  the  fulle  up-bounde, 
Had  out  of  doute  a  tyme  to  it  founde. 

And  Troilus,  that  al  this  purveyaunce 
Knew  at  the  fulle,  and  waytede  on  it  ay, 
Had  heer-up-on  eek  maad  gret  ordenaunce 
And  founde  his  cause  and  ther-to  his  aray, 
If  that  he  were  missed  night  or  day 
Ther-whyl  he  was  aboute  this  servyse, 
That  he  was  goon  to  doon  his  sacrifyse. 

Sk.,Ill,  470-476;  491-197;  505-518;  533-539 


168  CHAUCER  111,337-371 

And  moste  at  swich  a  temple  alone  wake, 

Answered  of  Appollo  for  to  be; 

And  first  to  seen  the  holy  laurer  quake 

Er  that  Apollo  spak  out  of  the  tree 

To  telle  him  next  whan  Grekes  sholden  flee, 

And  forthy  lette  him  no  man,  God  forbede, 

But  preye  Apollo  helpen  in  this  nede. 

Now  is  ther  litel  more  for  to  done, 
But  Pandare  up,  and  shortly  for  to  seyne, 
Right  sone  upon  the  chaunging  of  the  mone, 
Whan  lightles  is  the  world  a  night  or  tweyne 
And  that  the  welken  shoop  him  for  to  reyne, 
He  streight  a-morwe  un-to  his  nece  wente. 
Ye  han  wel  herd  the  fyn  of  his  entente. 

Whan  he  was  come,  he  gan  anoon  to  pleye 
As  he  was  wont,  and  of  him-self  to  lape. 
And  fynally,  he  swor  and  gan  hir  seye, 
By  this  and  that,  she  sholde  him  not  escape, 
Ne  lenger  doon  him  after  hir  to  gape, 
But  certeynly  she  moste,  by  hir  leve, 
Come  soupen  in  his  hous  with  him  at  eve. 

At  which  she  lough,  and  gan  hir  faste  excuse, 
And  seyde,  "It  rayneth.  Lo,  how  sholde  I  goon?" 
"Lat  be,"  quod  he,  "ne  stond  not  thus  to  muse. 
This  moot  be  doon,  ye  shal  be  ther  anoon." 
So  at  the  laste  her-of  they  felle  at  oon; 
Or  elles,  softe  he  swor  hir  in  hir  ere, 
He  nolde  nevere  come  ther  she  were. 

Sone  after  this  to  him  she  gan  to  rowne, 
And  askede  him  if  Troilus  were  there. 
He  swor  hir,  "Nay,  for  he  was  out  of  towne," 
And  seyde,  "Nece,  I  pose  that  he  were, 
Yow  thurfte  nevere  have  the  more  fere. 
For  rather  than  men  mighte  him  ther  aspye, 
Me  were  lever  a  thousand  fold  to  dye." 

Sk.,  Ill,  540-5 74 


in.372-406          TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  169 

Nought  list  myn  auctor  fully  to  declare 

What  that  she  thoughte  whan  he  seyde  so, 

That  Troilus  was  out  of  towne  y-fare, 

As  if  he  seyde  ther-of  sooth  or  no; 

But  that  with-oute  awayt  with  him  to  go 

She  graunted  him,  sith  he  hir  that  bisoughte, 

And  as  his  nece  obeyed  as  hir  oughte. 

But  nathelees,  yet  gan  she  him  biseche, 
Al-though  with  him  to  goon  it  was  no  fere, 
For  to  be  war  of  goosish  peples  speche, 
That  dremen  thinges  which  that  nevere  were, 
And  wel  avyse  him  whom  he  broughte  there. 
And  seyde  him,  "Eem,  sin  I  mot  on-yow  triste, 
Loke  al  be  wel,  and  do  now  as  yow  liste." 

He  swor  hir,  "  Yis,  by  stokkes  and  by  stones, 
And  by  the  goddes  that  in  hevene  dwelle, 
Or  elles  were  him  lever,  soule  and  bones, 
With  Pluto  king  as  depe  been  in  helle 
As  Tantalus!"  What  sholde  I  more  telle? 
Whan  al  was  wel  he  roos  and  tak  his  leve, 
And  she  to  souper  com  whan  it  was  eve, 

With  a  certayn  of  hir  owene  men, 
And  with  hir  faire  nece  Antigone, 
And  othere  of  hir  wommen,  nyne  or  ten. 
But  who  was  glad  now,  who  as  trowe  ye 
But  Troilus,  that  stood  and  mighte  it  see 
Thurgh-oute  a  litel  windowe  in  a  stewe 
Ther  he  bishet  sin  midnight  was  in  mewe, 

Unwist  of  every  wight  but  of  Pandare? 
But  to  the  poynt :  Now  whan  she  was  y-come 
With  alle  loye  and  alle  frendes  fare, 
Hir  eem  anoon  in  armes  hath  hir  nome, 
And  after  to  the  souper,  alle  and  some, 
Whan  tyme  was,  ful  softe  they  hem  sette. 
God  wot,  ther  was  no  deyntee  for  to  fette. 

Sk.,  Ill,  575-609 


170  CHAUCER  m,407-44i 

And  after  souper  gonnen  they  to  ryse, 
At  ese  wel  with  hertes  fresshe  and  glade, 
And  wel  was  him  that  coude  best  devyse 
To  lyken  hir,  or  that  hir  laughen  made. 
He  song;  she  pleyde;  he  tolde  tale  of  Wade. 
But  at  the  laste,  as  every  thing  hath  ende, 
She  took  hir  leve,  and  nedes  wolde  wende. 

But  O  Fortune,  executrice  of  wierdes, 

O  influences  of  thise  hevenes  hye! 

Soth  is  that  under  God  ye  ben  our  hierdes, 

Though  to  us  bestes  been  the  causes  wrye. 

This  mene  I  now,  for  she  gan  hoomward  hye, 

But  execut  was  al  bisyde  hir  leve 

At  the  goddes  wille;  for  which  she  moste  bleve. 

The  bente  mone  with  hir  homes  pale, 
Saturne  and  love  in  Cancro  ioyned  were, 
That  swich  a  rayn  from  hevene  gan  avale 
That  every  maner  womman  that  was  there 
Had  of  that  smoky  reyn  a  verray  fere; 
At  which  Pandare  tho  lough  and  seyde  thenne, 
"Now  were  it  tyme  a  lady  to  go  henne! 

"But  goode  nece,  if  I  mighte  evere  plese 
Yow  any- thing,  than  prey  I  yow,"  quod  he, 
"To  doon  myn  herte  as  now  so  greet  an  ese 
As  for  to  dwell^  heer  al  this  night  with  me, 
For-why  this  is  your  owene  hous,  pardee. 
For  by  my  trouthe  I  sey  it  nought  a-game, 
To  wende  as  now  it  were  to  me  a  shame." 

Criseyde,  which  that  coude  as  muche  good 

As  half  a  world,  took  hede  of  his  preyere. 

And  sin  it  ron  and  al  was  on  a  flood, 

She  thoughte,  "As  good  chep  may  I  dwellen  here, 

And  graunte  it  gladly  with  a  freendes  chere, 

And  have  a  thank,  as  grucche  and  than  abyde. 

For  hoom  to  goon  it  may  nought  wel  bityde." 

Sk.,  Ill,  610-644 


m.442-476          TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  171 

"I  wol,"  quod  she,  "myn  uncle  leef  and  dere, — 

Sin  that  yow  list,  it  skil  is  to  be  so. 

I  am  right  glad  with  yow  to  dwellen  here; 

I  seyde  but  agame  I  wolde  go." 

"Y-wis,  graunt  mercy,  nece!"  quod  he  tho; 

"Were  it  a  game  or  no,  soth  for  to  telle, 

Now  am  I  glad,  sin  that  yow  list  to  dwelle." 

Thus  al  is  wel;  but  tho  bigan  aright 
The  newe  loye  and  al  the  feste  agayn. 
But  Pandarus,  if  goodly  had  he  might, 
He  wolde  han  hyed  hir  to  bedde  fayn, 
And  seyde,  "Lord,  this  is  an  huge  rayn! 
This  were  a  weder  for  to  slepen  inne, 
And  that  I  rede  us  sone  to  biginne. 

"  And  nece,  woot  ye  wher  I  wol  yow  leye. 
For  that  we  shul  not  liggen  fer  asonder, 
And  for  ye  neither  shullen,  dar  I  seye, 
Heren  noise  of  reynes  nor  of  thondre? 
By  God,  right  in  my  lyte  closet  yonder. 
And  I  wol  in  that  outer  hous  allone 
Be  wardeyn  of  your  wommen  everichone. 

"And  in  this  middel  chaumbre  that  ye  see 
Shul  youre  wommen  slepen  wel  and  softe; 
And  ther  I  seyde  shal  your-selve  be. 
And  if  ye  liggen  wel  to-night  com  ofte 
And  careth  not  what  weder  is  on-lofte. 
The  wyn  anon,  and  whan  so  that  yow  leste, 
So  go  we  slepe:  I  trowe  it  be  the  beste." 

Tho  Pandarus,  hir  eem,  right  as  him  oughte, 
With  women  swiche  as  were  hir  most  aboute, 
Ful  glad  un-to  hir  beddes  syde  hir  broughte 
And  took  his  leve  and  gan  ful  lowe  loute 
And  seyde,  "Heer  at  this  closet-dore  with-oute, 
Right  over-thwart,  your  wommen  liggen  alle, 
That  whom  yow  liste  of  hem  ye  may  heer  calle." 

Sk.,  Ill,  645-672;  680-686 


172  CHAUCER  m,477-su 

So  whan  that  she  was  in  the  closet  leyd, 

And  alle  hir  wommen  forth  by  ordenaunce 

A-bedde  weren  ther  as  I  have  seyd, 

Ther  was  no  more  to  skippen  nor  to  traunce, 

But  boden  go  to  bedde,  with  mischaunce! 

If  any  wight  was  stering  any-where, 

And  late  hem  slepe  that  a-bedde  were. 

But  Pandarus,  that  wel  coude  ech  a  del 
The  olde  daunce,  and  every  poynt  ther-inne, 
Whan  that  he  sey  that  alle  thing  was  wel, 
He  thoughte  he  wrolde  up-on  his  wrerk  biginne, 
And  gan  the  stewe-dore  al  softe  un-pinne, 
And  stille  as  stoon  with-outen  lenger  lette, 
By  Troilus  a-doun  right  he  him  sette. 

And  shortly  to  the  poynt  right  for  to  gon, 
Of  al  this  werk  he  tolde  him  word  and  ende, 
And  seyde,  "Make  thee  redy  right  anon, 
For  thou  shalt  in- to  hevene  blisse  wende." 
"Now  blisful  Venus,  thou  me  grace  sende," 
Quod  Troilus,  "for  nevere  yet  no  nede 
Had  I  er  now,  ne  halvendel  the  drede." 

Quod  Pandarus,  "Thou  wrecched  mouses  herte, 
Art  thou  agast  so  that  she  wol  thee  byte? 
Why,  don  this  furred  cloke  up-on  thy  sherte, 
And  folowe  me,  for  I  wol  han  the  wyte. 
But  byd,  and  lat  me  go  bifore  a  lyte." 
And  with  that  word  he  gan  un-do  a  trappe, 
And  Troilus  he  broughte  in  by  the  lappe. 

The  sterne  wind  so  loude  gan  to  route 
That  no  wight  other  noyse  mighte  here; 
And  they  that  layen  at  the  dore  with-oute 
Ful  sykerly  they  slepten  alle  y-fere. 
And  Pandarus  with  a  ful  sobre  chere 
Goth  to  the  dore  anon  with-outen  lette 
Ther-as  they  laye,  and  softely  it  shette. 

Sk.,  HI,  687-707:  736-749 


111,512-546  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  173 

And  as  he  com  ayeinward  prively, 

His  nece  awook  and  asked,  "Who  goth  there?" 

"My  dere  nece,"  quod  he,  "it  am  I. 

Ne  wondreth  not  ne  have  of  it  no  fere." 

And  ner  he  com,  and  seyde  hir  in  hir  ere, 

"No  word,  for  love  of  God,  I  yow  biseche! 

Lat  no  wight  ryse  and  heren  of  our  speche!" 

"What!  which  wey  be  ye  comen,  bendiste?" 
Quod  she,  "and  how  thus  unwist  of  hem  alle?" 
"Heer  at  this  secre  trappe-dore,"  quod  he. 
Quod  tho  Criseyde,  "Lat  me  som  wight  calle." 
"Ey!  God  forbede  that  it  sholde  falle," 
Quod  Pandarus,  "that  ye  swich  foly  wroughte! 
They  mighte  deme  thing  they  nevere  er  though te! 

"Now  nece  myn,  ye  shul  wel  understonde," 
Quod  he,  "so  as  ye  wommen  demen  alle, 
That  for  to  holde  in  love  a  man  in  honde 
And  him  hir  '  leef '  and  '  dere  herte '  calle, 
And  maken  him  an  howve  above  a  calle, 
I  mene  as  love  an  other  in  this  whyle, 
She  doth  hir-self  a  shame  and  him  a  gyle. 

"Now  wherby  that  I  telle  yow  al  this? 
Ye  woot  your-self,  as  wel  as  any  wight, 
How  that  your  love  al  fully  graunted  is 
To  Troilus,  the  worthieste  knight 
Oon  of  this  world,  and  ther-to  trouthe  plyght 
That,  but  it  were  on  him  along,  ye  nolde 
Him  nevere  falsen  whyl  ye  liven  sholde. 

"Now  stant  it  thus,  that  sith  I  fro  yow  wente, 

This  Troilus,  right  platly  for  to  seyn, 

Is  thurgh  a  goter  by  a  prive  wente 

In- to  my  chaumbre  come  in  al  this  reyn, 

Unwist  of  every  maner  wight,  certeyn, 

Save  of  my-self,  as  wisly  have  I  loye, 

And  by  that  feith  I  shal  Priam  of  Troye! 

Sk.,  Ill,  750-763;  771-791 


174  CHAUCER  in,  547-581 

"And  he  is  come  in  swich  peyne  and  distresse 

That,  but  he  be  al  fully  wood  by  this, 

He  sodeynly  mot  falle  in-to  wodnesse, 

But-if  God  helpe.  And  cause  why  this  is: 

He  seyth  him  told  is  of  a  freend  of  his 

How  that  ye  sholde  love  oon  that  hatte  Horaste, 

For  sorwe  of  which  this  night  shal  been  his  laste." 

Criseyde,  which  that  al  this  wonder  herde, 

Gan  sodeynly  aboute  hir  herte  colde, 

And  with  a  syk  she  sorwfully  answerde, 

"  Alias!  I  wende,  who-so  tales  tolde, 

My  dere  herte  wolde  me  not  holde 

So  lightly  fals!  Alias!  conceytes  wronge, 

What  harm  they  doon,  for  now  live  I  to  longe! 

"Horaste?  Alias!  and  faisen  Troilus? 
I  knowe  him  not,  God  helpe  me  so,"  quod  she; 
"Alias!  what  wikked  spirit  tolde  him  thus? 
Now  certes,  eem,  to-morwe,  and  I  him  see, 
I  shal  ther-of  as  ful  excusen  me 
As  evere  dide  womman,  if  him  lyke." 
And  with  that  word  she  gan  ful  sore  syke. 

Quod  Pandarus,  "Thus  fallen  is  this  cas." 

"Why,  uncle  myn,"  quod  she,  "who  tolde  him  this? 

Why  doth  my  dere  herte  thus,  alias?  " 

"Ye  woot,  ye  nece  myn,"  quod  he,  "what  is. 

I  hope  al  shal  be  wel  that  is  amis. 

For  ye  may  quenche  al  this  if  that  yow  leste, 

And  doth  right  so,  for  I  holde  it  the  beste." 

"So  shal  I  do  to-morwe,  y-wis,"  quod  she, 
"And  God  to-forn,  so  that  it  shal  suffyse." 
"To-morwe?  Alias,  that  were  a  fayr,"  quod  he, 
"Nay,  nay,  it  may  not  stonden  in  this  wyse. 
For,  nece  myn,  thus  wryten  clerkes  wyse, 
That  peril  is  with  drecching  in  y-drawe: 
Nay,  swich  abodes  been  nought  worth  an  hawer 

Sk  ,  III,  792-812;  841-854 


111,582-616  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  175 

"And  nece  myn,  ne  take  it  not  a-greef, — 
If  that  ye  suffre  him  al  night  in  this  wo, 
God  helpe  me  so,  ye  had  him  nevere  leef, 
That  dar  I  seyn,  now  ther  is  but  we  two. 
But  wel  I  woot  that  ye  wol  not  do  so: 
Ye  been  to  wys  to  do  so  gret  folye 
To  putte  his  lyf  al  night  in  lupartye." 

"  Had  I  him  nevere  leef?  By  God,  I  wene 

Ye  hadde  nevere  thing  so  leef,"  quod  she. 

"Now  by  my  thrift,"  quod  he,  "that  shal  be  sene. 

For  sin  ye  make  this  ensample  of  me, 

If  I  al  night  wolde  him  in  sorwe  see 

For  al  the  tresour  in  the  toun  of  Troye, 

I  bidde  God  I  nevere  mote  have  loye!" 

Quod  tho  Criseyde,  "Wole  ye  doon  o  thing, 
And  ye  therwith  shal  stinte  al  his  disese? 
Have  heer,  and  bereth  him  this  blewe  ring; 
For  ther  is  no-thing  mighte  him  bettre  plese 
Save  I  my-self ,  ne  more  his  herte  apese. 
And  sey  my  dere  herte  that  his  sorwe 
Is  causeles,  that  shal  be  seen  to-morwe." 

"A  ring?"  quod  he,  "ye,  hasel-wodes  shaken! 

Ye,  nece  myn,  that  ring  moste  han  a  stoon 

That  mighte  dede  men  alyve  maken, 

And  swich  a  ring  trowe  I  that  ye  have  noon. 

Discrecioun  out  of  your  heed  is  goon: 

That  fele  I  now,"  quod  he,  "and  that  is  routhe. 

0  tyme  y-lost,  wel  may  stow  cursen  slouthe!" 

Criseyde  answerde,  "As  wisly  God  at  reste 

My  sowle  bringe  as  me  is  for  him  wo ! 

And  eem,  y-wis,  fayn  wolde  I  doon  the  beste 

If  that  I  hadde  grace  to  do  so. 

But  whether  that  ye  dwelle  or  for  him  go, 

1  am  til  God  me  bettre  minde  sende 

At  Dulcarnon,  right  at  my  wittes  ende." 

St.,  Ill,  862-875;  883-896;  925-931 


176  CHAUCER  m,6i7-65i 

Quod  Pandarus,  "  Ye,  nece,  wol  ye  here? 
Dulcarnon  called  is  'fleming  of  wrecches:' 
It  semeth  hard,  for  wrecches  wol  not  lere 
For  verray  slouthe  or  othere  wilful  tecches. 
This  seyd  by  hem  that  be  not  worth  two  fecches; 
But  ye  ben  wys,  and  that  we  han  on  honde 
Nis  neither  hard,  ne  skilful  to  withstonde." 

"Than,  eem,"  quod  she,  "doth  her-of  as  yow  list. 

But  er  he  come  I  wil  up  first  aryse; 

And  for  the  love  of  God,  sin  al  my  trist 

Is  on  yow  two  and  ye  ben  bothe  wyse, 

So  wircheth  now  in  so  discreet  a  wyse 

That  I  honour  may  have  and  he  plesaunce. 

For  I  am  heer  al  in  your  governaunce." 

"That  is  wel  seyd,"  quod  he,  "my  nece  dere, 
Ther  good  thrift  on  that  wyse  gen  til  herte! 
But  liggeth  stille,  and  taketh  him  right  here. 
It  nedeth  not  no  ferther  for  him  sterte; 
And  ech  of  yow  ese  otheres  sorwes  smerte 
For  love  of  God!  And  Venus,  I  thee  herie, 
For  sone  hope  I  we  shulle  ben  alle  merie!" 

This  Troilus  ful  sone  on  knees  him  sette 
Ful  sob  rely,  right  by  hir  beddes  heed, 
And  in  his  beste  wyse  his  lady  grette ; 
But  Lord,  so  she  wex  sodeynliche  reed! 
Ne  though  men  sholden  smyten  of  hir  heed, 
She  coude  nought  a  word  a-right  out-bringe 
So  sodeynly  for  his  sodeyn  cominge. 

But  Pandarus,  that  so  wel  coude  f  ele 

In  every  thing,  to  pleye  anoon  bigan, 

And  seyde,  "Nece,  see  how  this  lord  can  knele! 

Now  for  your  trouthe,  seeth  this  gentil  man!" 

And  with  that  word  he  for  a  quisshen  ran, 

And  seyde,  "Kneleth  now  whyl  that  yow  leste, 

Ther  God  your  hertes  bringe  sone  at  reste!" 

Sk.,  HI,  932-966 


m.652-686          TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  177 

Can  I  not  seyn,  for  she  bad  him  not  ryse, 

If  sorwe  it  putte  out  of  hir  remembraunce, 

Or  elles  if  she  toke  it  in  the  wyse 

Of  duetee,  as  for  his  observaunce; 

But  wel  finde  I  she  did  him  this  plesaunce 

That  she  him  kiste,  al- though  she  syked  sore; 

And  bad  him  sitte  a-doun  with-outen  more. 

Criseyde,  that  was  Troilus  lady  right, 
And  clere  stood  on  a  ground  of  sikernesse, 
Al  thoughte  she,  hir  servaunt  and  hir  knight 
Ne  sholde  of  right  non  untrouthe  in  hir  gesse, 
Yet  nathelees,  considered  his  distresse, 
And  that  love  is  in  cause  of  swich  folye, 
Thus  to  him  spak  she  of  his  lalousye: 

"Lo,  herte  myn,  as  wolde  the  excellence 
Of  love,  ayeins  the  which  that  no  man  may, 
Ne  oughte  eek  goodly  maken  resistence, 
And  eek  bycause  I  felte  wel  and  say 
Your  grete  trouthe  and  servyse  every  day, 
And  that  your  herte  al  myn  was,  sooth  to  seyne, 
This  droof  me  for  to  rewe  up-on  your  peyne; 

"  And  your  goodnesse  have  I  f ounde  alwey  yit, 
Of  which,  my  dere  herte  and  al  my  knight, 
I  thonke  it  yow  as  fer  as  I  have  wit, 
Al  can  I  nought  as  muche  as  it  were  right. 
And  I,  emforth  my  conning  and  my  might, 
Have  and  ay  shal,  how  sore  that  me  smerte, 
Ben  to  yow  trewe  and  hool  with  al  myn  herte!" 

With  that  a  fewe  brighte  teres  newe 

Out  of  hir  eyen  fille,  and  thus  she  seyde: 

"Now  God,  thou  wost,  in  thought  ne  dede  untrewe 

To  Troilus  was  nevere  yet  Criseyde!" 

With  that  hir  heed  doun  in  the  bed  she  leyde 

And  with  the  shete  it  wreigh,  and  syghed  sore, 

And  held  hir  pees:  not  o  word  spak  she  more. 

Sk.,III,  967-973;  981-1001;  1051-1057 


178  CHAUCER  111,687-721 

This  Troilus,  whan  he  hir  wordes  herde, 

Have  ye  no  care,  him  liste  not  to  slepe; 

For  it  thoughte  him  no  strokes  of  a  yerde 

To  here  or  seen  Criseyde  his  lady  wepe. 

But  wel  'he  f elte  aboute  his  herte  crepe, 

For  every  tere  which  that  Criseyde  asterte, 

The  crampe  of  deeth  to  streyne  him  by  the  herte. 

And  in  his  minde  he  gan  the  tyme  acurse 
That  he  cam  there,  and  that  he  was  born; 
For  now  is  wikke  y-turned  in-to  worse, 
And  al  that  labour  he  hath  doon  biforn 
He  wende  it  lost,  he  thoughte  he  nas  but  lorn. 
"O  Pandarus,"  thoughte  he,  " alias!  thy  wyle 
Serveth  of  nought,  so  welawey  the  whyle!" 

And  therwithal  he  heng  a-doun  the  heed, 

And  fil  on  knees,  and  sorwfully  he  sighte. 

What  mighte  he  seyn?    He  felte  he  nas  but  deed; 

For  wrooth  was  she  that  shulde  his  sorwes  lighte. 

But  nathelees,  whan  that  he  speken  mighte, 

Than  seyde  he  thus:    " God  woot  that  of  this  game, 

Whan  al  is  wist,  than  am  I  not  to  blame!" 

Ther-with  the  sorwe  so  his  herte  shette 
That  from  his  eyen  fil  ther  not  a  tere, 
And  every  spirit  his  vigour  in-knette, 
So  they  astoned  and  oppressed  were. 
The  feling  of  his  sorwe  or  of  his  fere 
Or  of  ought  elles  fled  was  out  of  towne, 
And  doun  he  fel  al  sodeynly  a-swowne. 

Therwith  his  pous  and  pawmes  of  his  hondes 
They  gan  to  frote,  and  wete  his  temples  tweyne; 
And,  to  deliveren  him  from  bittre  bondes, 
She  ofte  him  kiste.    And  shortly  for  to  seyne, 
Him  to  revoken  she  did  al  hir  peyne. 
And  at  the  laste  he  gan  his  breeth  to  drawe, 
And  of  his  swough  sone  after  that  adawe, 

Sk.,III,  1065-1092;  1114-1120 


m.722-756          TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  179 

And  gan  bet  minde  and  reson  to  him  take, 
But  wonder  sore  he  was  abayst,  y-wis. 
And  with  a  syk,  whan  he  gan  bet  a-wake, 
He  seyde,  "O  mercy  God,  what  thing  is  this?" 
"Why  do  ye  with  your-selven  thus  amis?" 
Quod  tho  Criseyde,  "is  this  a  mannes  game? 
What  Troilus!  wol  ye  do  thus,  for  shame?" 

And  therwith-al  hir  arm  over  him  she  leyde, 
And  al  foryaf ,  and  ofte  tyme  him  keste. 
He  thonked  hir,  and  to  hir  spak,  and  seyde 
As  fil  to  purpos  for  his  herte  reste. 
And  she  to  that  answerde  him  as  hir  leste, 
And  with  hir  goodly  wordes  him  disporte 
She  gan,  and  ofte  his  sorwes  to  comforte. 

Quod  Pandarus,  "For  ought  I  can  espyen, 
This  light  nor  I  ne  serven  heer  of  nought; 
Light  is  not  good  for  syke  folkes  yen. 
But  for  the  love  of  God,  sin  ye  be  brought 
In  thus  good  plyt,  lat  now  no  hevy  thought 
Ben  hanging  in  the  hertes  of  yow  tweye:" 
And  bar  the  candel  to  the  chimeneye. 

Sone  after  this,  though  it  no  nede  were, 
Whan  she  swiche  othes  as  hir  list  devyse 
Had  of  him  take,  hir  thoughte  tho  no  fere 
Ne  cause  eek  non  to  bidde  him  thennes  ryse. 
Yet  lesse  thing  than  othes  may  suffyse 
In  many  a  cas;  for  every  wight,  I  gesse, 
That  loveth  wel  meneth  but  gentilesse. 

But  in  effect  she  wolde  wite  anoon 

Of  what  man  and  eek  wher  and  also  why 

He  lelous  was,  sin  ther  was  cause  noon; 

And  eek  the  signe  that  he  took  it  by 

She  bad  him  that  to  telle  hir  bisily 

Or  elles,  certeyn,  she  bar  him  on  honde 

That  this  was  doon  of  malice  hir  to  fonde. 

Sk.,  Ill,  1121-1155 


180  CHAUCER  111,757-791 

With-outen  more,  shortly  for  to  seyne, 
He  moste  obeye  un-to  his  lady  heste; 
And  for  the  lasse  harm  he  moste  feyne 
He  seyde  hir  whan  she  was  at  swich  a  feste 
She  mighte  on  him  han  loked  at  the  leste: 
Not  I  not  what,  al  dere  y-nough  a  risshe, 
As  he  that  nedes  moste  a  cause  fisshe. 

And  she  answerde,  "Swete,  al  were  it  so, 
What  harm  was  that  sin  I  non  yvel  mene? 
For  by  that  God  that  boughte  us  bothe  two 
In  alle  thing  is  myn  entente  clene. 
Swiche  arguments  ne  been  not  worth  a  bene; 
Wol  ye  the  childish  lalous  contrefete? 
Now  were  it  worthy  that  ye  were  y-bete." 

Tho  Troilus  gan  sorwfully  to  syke 

Lest  she  be  wrooth,  him  thoughte  his  herte  deyde; 

And  seyde,  "  Alias!  upon  my  sorwes  syke 

Have  mercy,  swete  herte  myn,  Criseyde! 

And  if  that  in  tho  wordes  that  I  seyde 

Be  any  wrong,  I  wol  no  more  trespace. 

Do  what  yow  list,  I  am  al  in  your  grace." 

And  she  answerde,  "Of  gilt  misericorde! 

That  is  to  seyn  that  I  foryeve  al  this. 

And  evere-more  on  this  night  yow  recorde, 

And  beth  wel  war  ye  do  no  more  amis." 

"Nay,  dere  herte  myn,"  quod  he,  "y-wis." 

"And  now,"  quod  she,  "that  I  have  do  yow  smerte, 

Foryeve  it  me,  myn  owne  swete  herte." 

This  Troilus  with  blisse  of  that  supprysed 

Putte  al  in  Goddes  hond,  as  he  that  mente 

No- thing  but  wel;  and  sodeynly  avysed 

He  hir  in  armes  faste  to  him  hente. 

And  Pandarus  with  a  full  good  entente 

Leyde  him  to  slepe,  and  seyde,  "If  ye  ben  wyse, 

Swowneth  not  now  lest  more  folk  aryse." 

Sk.,IIL  1156-1190 


ui,  792-826  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  181 

This  Troilus  in  armes  gan  hir  streyne, 
And  seyde,  "O  swete,  as  evere  mote  I  goon, 
Now  be  ye  caught,  now  is  ther  but  we  tweyne: 
Now  yeldeth  yow,  for  other  bote  is  noon!" 
To  that  Criseyde  answerde  thus  anoon, 
"  Ne  had  I  er  now,  my  swete  herte  dere, 
Ben  yolde,  y-wis,  I  were  now  not  here!" 

O!  sooth  is  seyd  that  heled  for  to  be, 

As  of  a  fevre  or  other  gret  syknesse, 

Men  moste  drinke,  as  men  may  often  see, 

Ful  bittre  drinke;  and  for  to  han  gladnesse 

Men  drinken  often  peyne  and  greet  distresse: 

I  mene  it  heer,  as  for  this  aventure, 

That  thourgh  a  peyne  hath  founden  al  his  cure. 

O  blisful  night,  of  hem  so  longe  y-sought, 
How  blithe  un-to  hem  bothe  two  thou  were! 
Why  ne  had  I  swich  on  with  my  soule  y-bought, 
Ye,  or  the  leeste  loye  that  was  there? 
Awey,  thou  foule  Daunger  and  thou  Fere, 
And  lat  hem  in  this  hevene  blisse  dwelle, 
That  is  so  heygh  that  al  ne  can  I  telle! 

Thise  ilke  two  that  ben  in  armes  laf t, 

So  looth  to  hem  a-sonder  goon  it  were 

That  ech  from  other  wende  been  biraft, 

Or  elles,  lo,  this  was  hir  moste  fere, 

That  al  this  thing  but  nyce  dremes  were: 

For  which  ful  ofte  ech  of  hem  seyde,  "O  swete, 

Clippe  ich  yow  thus,  or  elles  I  it  mete?" 

But  whan  the  cok,  comune  astrologer, 

Gan  on  his  brest  to  bete  and  after  crowe, 

And  Lucifer,  the  dayes  messager, 

Gan  for  to  ryse  and  oute  hir  bemes  throwe; 

And  estward  roos,  to  him  that  coude  it  knowe, 

Fortuna  maior,  than  anoon  Criseyde 

With  herte  sore  to  Troilus  thus  seyde: — 

Sk.,  Ill, 1205-1218;  1317-1323;  1338-1344;  1415-1421 


182  CHAUCER  111,827-861 

"Myn  hertes  lyf,  my  trist,  and  my  plesaunce, 

That  I  was  born,  alias!  what  me  is  wo 

That  day  of  us  mot  make  desseveraunce! 

For  tyme  it  is  to  ryse  and  hennes  go, 

Or  elles  I  am  lost  for  everemo ! 

O  night,  alias!  why  nil  tow  over  us  hove 

As  longe  as  whanne  Almena  lay  by  love? 

"Thou  dost,  alias!  to  shortly  thyn  offyce, 
Thou  rakel  night,  ther  God,  maker  of  kinde, 
Thee  for  thyn  haste  and  thyn  unkinde  vyce 
So  f  aste  ay  to  our  hemi-spere  binde 
That  nevere-more  under  the  ground  thou  winde! 
For  now,  for  thou  so  hyest  out  of  Troye, 
Have  I  forgon  thus  hastily  my  loye!" 

This  Troilus,  that  with  tho  wordes  felte, 

As  though te  him  tho,  for  pietous  distresse 

The  blody  teres  from  his  herte  melte, 

As  he  that  nevere  yet  swich  hevinesse 

Assayed  had  out  of  so  greet  gladnesse, 

Gan  therwith-al  Criseyde  his  lady  dere 

In  armes  streyne,  and  seyde  in  this  manere: — 

"O  cruel  day,  accusour  of  the  loye 

That  night  and  love  han  stole  and  faste  y-wryen, 

A-cursed  be  thy  coming  in-to  Troye, 

For  every  bore  hath  oon  of  thy  bright  yen! 

Envyous  day,  what  list  thee  so  to  spyen? 

What  hastow  lost?  Why  sekestow  this  place, 

Ther  God  thy  lyght  so  quenche,  for  his  grace? 

"Alias!  what  han  thise  loveres  thee  agilt, 
Dispitous  day?  Thyn  be  the  pyne  of  helle! 
For  many  a  lover  hastow  slayn  and  wilt; 
Thy  pouring  in  wol  no-wher  lete  hem  dwelle. 
What  proferestow  thy  light  heer  for  to  selle? 
Go  selle  it  hem  that  smale  seles  graven: 
We  wol  thee  nought,  us  nedeth  no  day  haven." 

Sk.,  Ill,  1422-1428;  1436-1463 


m.862-896  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  183 

Therwith  ful  sore  he  sighte,  and  thus  he  seyde, 

"  My  lady  right,  and  of  my  wele  or  wo 

The  welle  and  rote,  O  goodly  myn,  Criseyde, 

And  shal  I  ryse,  alias !  and  shal  I  go? 

Now  fele  I  that  myn  herte  moot  a- two! 

For  how  sholde  I  my  lyf  an  houre  save 

Sin  that  with  yow  is  al  the  lyf  I  have? 

"  But  nathelees,  myn  owene  lady  bright, 

Yit  were  it  so  that  I  wiste  outrely 

That  I,  your  humble  servaunt  and  your  knight, 

Were  in  your  herte  set  so  fermely 

As  ye  in  myn,  the  which  thing  trewely 

Me  lever  were  than  thise  worldes  tweyne, 

Yet  sholde  I  bet  enduren  al  my  peyne." 

To  that  Criseyde  answerde  right  anoon, 
And  with  a  syk  she  seyde,  "O  herte  dere, 
The  game,  y-wis,  so  ferforth  now  is  goon 
That  first  shal  Phebus  falle  fro  his  spere, 
And  every  egle  been  the  dowves  fere, 
And  every  roche  out  of  his  place  sterte, 
Er  Troilus  out  of  Criseydes  herte! 

"Ye  be  so  depe  in- with  myn  herte  grave 

That,  though  I  wolde  it  turne  out  of  my  thought, 

As  wisly  verray  God  my  soule  save, 

To  dyen  in  the  peyne,  I  coude  nought! 

And  for  the  love  of  God  that  hath  us  wrought, 

Lat  in  your  brayn  non  other  fantasye 

So  crepe  that  it  cause  me  to  dye! 

"And  that  ye  me  wolde  han  faste  in  minde 
As  I  have  yow,  that  wolde  I  yow  bi-seche; 
And  if  I  wiste  soothly  that  to  finde, 
God  mighte  not  a  poynt  my  loyes  eche. 
But,  herte  myn,  with-oute  more  speche, 
Beth  to  me  trewe,  or  elles  were  it  routhe; 
For  I  am  thyn,  by  God  and  by  my  trouthe!" 

SlJ.,  Ill,  1471-1477;  14.85-1512 


184  CHAUCER  111,897-931 

Agayns  his  wille,  sin  it  mot  nedes  be, 

This  Troilus  up  roos,  and  faste  him  cledde, 

And  in  his  armes  took  his  lady  free 

An  hundred  tyme,  and  on  his  wey  him  spedde, 

And  with  swiche  wordes  as  his  herte  bledde, 

He  seyde,  "Farewel,  my  dere  herte  swete, 

Ther  God  us  graunte  sounde  and  sone  to  mete!" 

To  which  no  word  for  sorwe  she  answerde, 
So  sore  gan  his  parting  hir  distreyne; 
And  Troilus  un-to  his  paleys  ferde 
As  woo  bigon  as  she  was,  sooth  to  seyne. 
So  hard  him  wrong  of  sharp  desyr  the  peyne 
For  to  ben  eft  ther  he  was  in  plesaunce 
That  it  may  nevere  out  of  his  remembraunce. 

Retorned  to  his  real  palais,  sone 

He  softe  in-to  his  bed  gan  for  to  slinke, 

To  slepe  longe  as  he  was  wont  to  done. 

But  al  for  nought;  he  may  wel  ligge  and  winke, 

But  sleep  ne  may  ther  in  his  herte  sinke, 

Thenking  how  she,  for  whom  desyr  him  brende, 

A  thousand-fold  was  worth  more  than  he  wende. 

Criseyde  also,  right  in  the  same  wyse, 

Of  Troilus  gan  in  hir  herte  shette 

His  worthinesse,  his  lust,  his  dedes  wyse, 

His  gentilesse,  and  how  she  with  him  mette, 

Thonking  Love  he  so  wel  hir  bisette, 

Desyring  eft  to  have  hir  herte  dere 

In  swich  a  plyt  she  dorste  make  him  chere. 

Pandare,  a-morwe,  which  that  comen  was 
Un-to  his  nece,  and  gan  hir  fayre  grete, 
Seyde,  UA1  this  night  so  reyned  it,  alias! 
That  al  my  drede  is  that  ye,  nece  swete, 
Han  litel  layser  had  to  slepe  and  mete. 
Al  night,"  quod  he,  "hath  reyn  so  do  me  wake 
That  som  of  us,  I  trowe,  hir  nedes  ake." 

Sk., Ill,  1520-1540;  1548-1561 


in,  932-966          TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  185 

And  ner  he  com  and  seyde,  "How  stont  it  now 
This  mery  morwe,  nece, — how  can  ye  fare?" 
Criseyde  answerde,  "Nevere  the  bet  for  yow, 
Fox  that  ye  been,  God  yeve  your  herte  care! 
God  helpe  me  so,  ye  caused  al  this  fare, 
Trowe  I,"  quod  she,  "for  alle  your  wordes  whyte. 
O!  who-so  seeth  yow  knoweth  yow  ful  lyte!" 

With  that  she  gan  hir  face  for  to  wrye 
With  the  shete,  and  wex  for  shame  al  reed. 
And  Pandarus  gan  under  for  to  prye, 
And  seyde,  "Nece,  if  that  I  shal  been  deed, 
Have  heer  a  swerd  and  smyteth  of  myn  heed." 
With  that  his  arm  al  sodeynly  he  thriste 
Under  hir  nekke,  and  at  the  laste  hir  kiste. 

I  passe  al  that  which  chargeth  nought  to  seye, — 
What!  God  foryaf  his  deeth,  and  she  al-so 
Foryaf,  and  with  hir  uncle  gan  to  pleye, 
For  other  cause  was  ther  noon  than  so. 
But  of  this  thing  right  to  the  effect  to  go, 
Whan  tyme  was,  horn  til  hir  hous  she  wente, 
And  Pandarus  hath  fully  his  entente. 

Now  torne  we  ayein  to  Troilus, 

That  resteles  ful  longe  a-bedde  lay, 

And  prevely  sente  after  Pandarus 

To  him  to  come  in  al  the  haste  he  may. 

He  com  anoon,  nought  ones  seyde  he  "Nay," 

And  Troilus  ful  sobrely  he  grette, 

And  doun  upon  his  beddes  syde  him  sette. 

This  Troilus,  with  al  the  affeccioun 

Of  frendes  love  that  herte  may  devyse, 

To  Pandarus  on  knees  fil  adoun, 

And  er  that  he  wolde  of  the  place  aryse, 

'He  gan  him  thonken  in  his  beste  wyse. 

A  hondred  sythe  he  gan  the  tyme  blesse 

That  he  was  born  to  bringe  him  fro  distresse. 

SK.,  Ill,  1562-1596 


186  CHAUCER  m,  967-1001 

He  seyde,  "O  frend,  of  frendes  the  alderbeste 

That  evere  was,  the  sothe  for  to  telle, 

Thou  hast  in  hevene  y-brought  my  soule  at  reste 

Fro  Flegiton,  the  fery  flood  of  helle, 

That  though  I  mighte  a  thousand  tymes  selle 

Upon  a  day  my  lyf  in  thy  servyse, 

It  mighte  nought  a  mot  in  that  suffyse. 

"Thus  hastow  me  no  litel  thing  y-yive, 

For  which  to  thee  obliged  be  for  ay 

My  lyf,  and  why?  For  thorugh  thyn  help  I  live; 

For  elles  deed  had  I  be  many  a  day." 

And  with  that  word  doun  in  his  bed  he  lay, 

And  Pandarus  ful  sobrely  him  herde 

Til  al  was  seyd,  and  than  he  him  answerde: 

"My  dere  frend,  if  I  have  doon  for  thee 
In  any  cas,  God  wot,  it  is  me  leef ; 
And  am  as  glad  as  man  may  of  it  be, 
God  helpe  me  so.  But  tak  now  not  a-greef 
That  I  shal  seyn:  be  war  of  this  mischeef, 
That  ther-as  thou  now  wrought  art  in-to  blisse 
That  thou  thy-self  ne  cause  it  nought  to  misse. 

"  For  of  Fortunes  sharp  adversitee 

The  worste  kinde  of  infortune  is  this: 

A  man  to  have  ben  in  prosperitee, 

And  it  remembren  whan  it  passed  is. 

Thou  art  wys  y-nough,  for-thy  do  nought  amis. 

Be  not  to  rakel  though  thou  sitte  warme, 

For  if  thou  be,  certeyn  it  wol  thee  harme." 

Quod  Troilus,  "I  hope,  and  God  to-forn, 
My  dere  frend,  that  I  shal  so  me  bere 
That  in  my  gilt  ther  shal  no  thing  be  lorn, 
Ne  I  nil  not  rakle  as  for  to  greven  here. 
It  nedeth  not  this  matere  ofte  tere; 
For  wistestow  myn  herte  wel,  Pandare, 
God  woot,  of  this  thou  woldest  litel  care." 

Sk.,  Ill,  1597-1603;  1611-1631;  1639-1645 


IIL  1002-1036        TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  187 

Tho  gan  he  telle  him  of  his  glade  night. 
And  wher-of  first  his  herte  dredde,  and  how, 
And  seyde,  "  Freend,  as  I  am  trewe  knight, 
And  by  that  feyth  I  shal  to  God  and  yow, 
I  had  it  nevere  half  so  hote  as  now; 
And  ay  the  more  that  desyr  me  byteth 
To  love  hir  best,  the  more  it  me  delyteth. 

"I  noot  my-self  not  wisly  what  it  is; 

But  now  I  fele  a  newe  qualitee, 

Ye,  al  another  than  I  did  er  this." 

Pandare  answerde,  and  seyde  thus,  that  "he 

That  ones  may  in  hevene  blisse  be, 

He  feleth  other  weyes,  dar  I  leye, 

Than  thilke  tyme  he  first  herde  of  it  seye." 

This  is  o  word  for  al;  this  Troilus 
Was  nevere  ful  to  speke  of  this  matere, 
And  for  to  preysen  un-to  Pandarus 
The  bountee  of  his  righte  lady  dere, 
And  Pandarus  to  thanke  and  maken  chere. 
This  tale  ay  was  span-newe  to  biginne 
Til  that  the  night  departed  hem  a-twinne. 

Sone  after  this,  for  that  Fortune  it  wolde, 
I-comen  was  the  blisful  tyme  swete, 
That  Troilus  was  warned  that  he  sholde, 
Ther  he  was  erst,  Criseyde  his  lady  mete; 
For  which  he  felte  his  herte  in  loye  flete, 
And  feythfully  gan  alle  the  goddes  herie. 
And  lat  see  now  if  that  he  can  be  merie. 

Nought  nedeth  it  to  yow,  sin  they  ben  met, 

To  aske  at  me  if  that  they  blythe  were; 

For  if  it  erst  was  wel,  tho  was  it  bet 

A  thousand-fold,  this  nedeth  not  enquere. 

A-gon  was  every  sorwe  and  every  fere; 

And  bothe,  y-wis,  they  had,  and  so  they  wende, 

As  muche  loye  as  herte  may  comprende. 

S-c.,  Ill  1646-1673;  1681-1687 


188  CHAUCER  m,  1037-1071 

But  cruel  day,  so  wel-awey  the  stounde! 
Gan  for  to  aproche,  as  they  by  signes  knewe, 
For  which  herh  thoughte  felen  dethes  wounde. 
So  wo  was  hem  that  changen  gan  hir  hewe, 
And  day  they  gonnen  to  dispyse  al  newe, 
Calling  it  traytour,  envyous,  and  worse, 
And  bitterly  the  dayes  light  they  curse. 

Quod  Troilus,  "  Alias!  now  am  I  war 
That  Pirous  and  tho  swif  te  stedes  three, 
Which  that  drawen  forth  the  sonnes  char, 
Han  goon  som  by-path  in  despyt  of  me, 
That  maketh  it  so  sone  day  to  be. 
And  for  the  sonne  him  hasteth  thus  to  ryse 
Ne  shal  I  nevere  doon  him  sacrifyse!" 

But  nedes  day  departe  moste  hem  sone; 

And  whan  hir  speche  doon  was  and  hir  chere, 

They  twinne  anoon  as  they  were  wont  to  done, 

And  setten  tyme  of  meting  eft  y-fere. 

And  many  a  night  they  wroughte  in  this  manere, 

And  thus  Fortune  a  tyme  ladde  in  loye 

Criseyde  and  eek  this  kinges  sone  of  Troye. 

In  suffisaunce,  in  blisse,  and  in  singinges, 
This  Troilus  gan  al  his  lyf  to  lede. 
He  spendeth,  lusteth,  maketh  festeyinges; 
He  yeveth  frely  ofte,  and  chaungeth  wede, 
And  held  aboute  him  alwey,  out  of  drede, 
A  world  of  folk,  as  cam  him  wel  of  kinde, 
The  fressheste  and  the  beste  he  coude  fynde. 

And  most  of  love  and  vertu  was  his  speche, 
And  in  despyt  had  alle  wrecchednesse; 
And  doutelees,  no  nede  was  him  biseche 
To  honouren  hem  that  hadde  worthinesse 
And  esen  hem  that  weren  in  distresse. 
And  glad  was  he  if  any  wight  wel  ferde, 
That  lover  was,  whan  he  it  wiste  or  herde. 

Sk., Ill,  1695-1722;  1786-1792 


in,  1072-1092.        TRQILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  189 

IV,  1-7 

For  sooth  to  seyn,  he  lost  held  every  wight 

But-if  he  were  in  Loves  heigh  servyse, 

I  mene  folk  that  oughte  it  been  of  right. 

And  over  al  this,  so  wel  coude  he  devyse 

Of  sentement,  and  in  so  unkouth  wyse 

Al  his  array,  that  every  lover  thoughte 

That  al  was  wel,  what-so  he  seyde  or  wroughte. 

Thou  lady  bright,  the  dough ter  to  Dione, 

Thy  blinde  and  winged  sone  eek,  Daun  Cupyde; 

Ye  sustren  nyne  eek  that  by  Elicone 

In  hil  Parnaso  listen  for  to  abyde: 

That  ye  thus  fer  han  deyned  me  to  gyde, 

I  can  no  more  but — sin  that  ye  wol  wende — 

Ye  heried  been  for  ay,  with-outen  ende! 

Thourgh  yow  have  I  seyd  fully  in  my  song 

Theffect  and  loye  of  Troilus  servyse, 

Al  be  that  ther  was  som  disese  among, 

As  to  myn  auctor  listeth  to  devyse. 

My  thridde  book  now  ende  ich  in  this  wyse; 

And  Troilus  in  lust  and  in  quiete 

Is  with  Criseyde,  his  owne  herte  swete. 

Explicit  Liber  Tercius. 


BOOK  IV 

Incipit  Quartus  Liber 

But  al  to  litel,  weylawey  the  whyle, 

Lasteth  swich  loye,  y-thonked  be  Fortune! 

That  semeth  trewest  whan  she  wol  bygyle, 

And  can  to  foles  so  hir  song  entune 

That  she  hem  hent  and  blent,  tray  tour  comune; 

And  whan  a  wight  is  from  hir  wheel  y- thro  we, 

Than  laugheth  she  and  maketh  him  the  mowe. 

Sk.,  Ill,  1793-1799;  1807-1820;  IV,  1-7 


190  CHAUCER  iv,  s-42 

O  ye  Herines,  Nightes  doughtren  three, 
That  endelees  compleynen  evere  in  pyne, 
Megera,  Alete,  and  eek  Thesiphone; 
Thou  cruel  Mars  eek,  fader  to  Quiryne: 
This  ilke  ferthe  book  me  helpeth  fyne, 
So  that  the  los  of  lyf  and  love  y-fere 
Of  Troilus  be  fully  shewed  here. 

Ligging  in  ost,  as  I  have  seyd  er  this, 

The  Grekes  stronge  aboute  Troye  toun, 

Bifel  that  whan  that  Phebus  shyning  is 

Up-on  the  brest  of  Hercules  Lyoun, 

That  Ector,  with  ful  many  a  bold  baroun, 

Caste  on  a  day  with  Grekes  for  to  fighte, 

As  he  was  wont  to  greve  hem  what  he  mighte. 

The  longe  day,  with  speres  sharpe  y-grounde, 

With  arwes,  dartes,  swerdes,  maces  felle, 

They  fighte  and  bringen  hors  and  man  to  grounde, 

And  with  hir  axes  oute  the  braynes  quelle. 

But  in  the  laste  shour,  sooth  for  to  telle, 

The  folk  of  Troye  hem-selven  so  misledden 

That  with  the  worse  at  night  homward  they  fledden. 

At  whiche  day  was  taken  Antenor, 
Maugre  Polydamas  or  Monesteo, 
Santipee,  Sarpedon,  Polynestor, 
Polyte,  or  eek  the  Troian  Daun  Ripheo, 
And  othere  lasse  folk,  as  Phebuseo. 
So  that  for  harm  that  day  the  folk  of  Troye 
Dredden  to  lese  a  greet  part  of  hir  loye. 

Of  Pryamus  wras  yeve  at  Greek  requeste 
A  tyme  of  trewe,  and  tho  they  gonnen  trete 
Hir  prisoneres  to  chaungen,  moste  and  leste, 
And  for  the  surplus  yeven  sommes  grete. 
This  thing  anoon  was  couth  in  every  strete, 
Bothe  in  thassege,  in  toune,  and  every-where, 
And  with  the  firste  it  cam  to  Calkas  ere. 

Sk.,  IV,  22-35;  43-63 


iv,  43-77  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  191 

Whan  Calkas  knew  this  tretis  sholde  holde 
In  consistorie  among  the  Grekes,  sone 
He  gan  in  thringe  forth  with  lordes  olde, 
And  sette  him  ther-as  he  was  wont  to  done; 
And  with  a  chaunged  face  hem  bad  a  bone, 
For  love  of  God,  to  don  that  reverence 
To  stinte  noyse  and  yeve  him  audience. 

Than  seyde  he  thus,  "Lo!  lordes  myne,  I  was 
Troian,  as  it  is  knowen  out  of  drede; 
And  if  that  yow  remembre,  I  am  Calkas; 
That  alderfirst  yaf  comfort  to  your  nede, 
And  tolde  wel  how  that  ye  sholden  spede. 
For  dredelees  thorugh  yow  shal  in  a  stounde 
Ben  Troye  y-brend  and  beten  doun  to  grounde. 

"  Having  un-to  my  tresour  ne  my  rente 
Right  no  resport,  to  respect  of  your  ese, 
Thus  al  my  good  I  loste  and  to  yow  wente, 
Wening  in  this  you,  lordes,  for  to  plese. 
But  al  that  los  ne  doth  me  no  disese. 
I  vouche-sauf,  as  wisly  have  I  loye, 
For  yow  to  lese  al  that  I  have  in  Troye, 

"Save  of  a  doughter  that  I  lafte,  alias! 
Sleping  at  hoom,  whan  out  of  Troye  I  sterte. 
O  sterne,  O  cruel  fader  that  I  was! 
How  mighte  I  have  in  that  so  hard  an  herte? 
Alias!  I  ne  had  y-brought  hir  in  hir  sherte! 
For  sorwe  of  which  I  wol  not  live  to  morwe, 
But-if  ye  lordes  rewe  up-on  my  sorwe. 

"Ye  have  now  caught  and  fetered  in  prisoun 

Troians  y-nowe;  and  if  your  willes  be 

My  child  with  oon  may  have  redempcioun, 

Now  for  the  love  of  God  and  of  bountee, 

Oon  of  so  fele,  alias!  so  yeve  him  me! 

What  nede  were  it  this  preyer§  for  to  werne 

Sin  ye  shul  bothe  han  folk  and  toun  as  yerne?" 

Sk.,  IV,  64-77;  85-98;  106-112 


192  CHAUCER  iv,  73-112 

Telling  his  tale  alwey,  this  olde  greye, 
Humble  in  speche  and  in  his  loking  eke, 
The  salte  teres  from  his  eyen  tweye 
Ful  faste  ronnen  doun  by  eyther  cheke. 
So  longe  he  gan  of  socour  hem  by-seke 
That  for  to  hele  him  of  his  sorwes  sore 
They  yave  him  Antenor,  with-oute  more. 

But  who  was  glad  y-nough  but  Calkas  tho? 

And  of  this  thing  ful  sone  his  nedes  leyde 

On  hem  that  sholden  for  the  tretis  go, 

And  hem  for  Antenor  ful  of te  preyde 

To  bringen  hoom  King  Toas  and  Criseyde. 

And  whan  Pryam  his  save-garde  sente, 

Thembassadours  to  Troye  streyght  they  wente. 

The  cause  y-told  of  hir  coming,  the  olde 
Pryam  the  king  ful  sone  in  general 
Let  heer-upon  his  parlement  to  holde, 
Of  which  the  effect  rehersen  yow  I  shal. 
Thembassadours  ben  answered  for  fynal, 
Theschaunge  of  prisoners  and  al  this  nede 
Hem  lyketh  wel,  and  forth  in  they  precede. 

This  Troilus  was  present  in  the  place 
Whan  axed  was  for  Antenor  Criseyde, 
For  which  ful  sone  chaungen  gan  his  face, 
As  he  that  with  tho  wordes  wel  neigh  deyde. 
But  nathelees,  he  no  word  to  it  seyde 
Lest  men  sholde  his  affeccioun  espye; 
With  mannes  herte  he  gan  his  sorwes  drye. 

And  ful  of  anguish  and  of  grisly  drede 
Abood  what  lordes  wolde  un-to  it  seye. 
And  if  they  wolde  graunte,  as  God  forbede, 
Theschaunge  of  hir,  than  thoughte  he  thinges  tweye: 
First,  how  to  save  hir  honour,  and  what  weye 
He  mighte  best  theschaunge  of  hir  withstonde. 
Ful  faste  he  caste  how  al  this  mighte  stonde. 

Sk.,  IV,  127-161 


iv,  113-147  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  193 

Love  him  made  al  prest  to  doon  hir  byde, 

And  rather  dye  than  she  sholde  go; 

But  rcsoun  seyde  him,  on  that  other  syde, 

"With-oute  assent  of  hir  ne  do  not  so, 

Lest  for  thy  werk  she  wolde  be  thy  fo 

And  seyn  that  thorugh  thy  medling  is  y-blowe 

Your  bother  love,  ther  it  was  erst  unknowe." 

For  which  he  gan  deliberen,  for  the  beste, 
That  though  the  lordes  wolde  that  she  wente, 
He  wolde  late  hem  graunte  what  hem  leste, 
And  telle  his  lady  first  what  that  they  mente. 
And  whan  that  she  had  seyd  him  hir  entente, 
Ther-after  wolde  he  werken  also  blyve 
Though  al  the  world  ayein  it  wolde  stryve. 

Ector,  which  that  wel  the  Grekes  herde, 
For  Antenor  how  they  wolde  han  Criseyde, 
Gan  it  withstonde,  and  sobrely  answerde: 
"Sires,  she  nis  no  prisoner,"  he  seyde; 
"I  noot  on  yow  who  hath  this  charge  leyde, 
But  on  my  part  ye  may  eft-sone  him  telle 
We  usen  heer  no  wommen  for  to  selle." 

The  noyse  of  peple  up-stirte  than  at  ones, 

As  breme  as  blase  of  straw  y-set  on  fyre; 

For  infortune  it  wolde,  for  the  nones, 

They  sholden  hir  confusioun  desyre. 

" Ector,"  quod  they,  "what  goost  may  yow  enspyre 

This  womman  thus  to  shilde  and  doon  us  lese 

Daun  Antenor?    A  wrong  wey  now  ye  chese, 

"That  is  so  wys  and  eek  so  bold  baroun, 

And  we  han  nede  of  folk,  as  men  may  see. 

He  is  eek  oon  the  grettest  of  this  toun. 

O  Ector,  lat  tho  fantasyes  be! 

O  King  Pryam,"  quod  they,  "thus  seggen  we, 

That  al  our  voys  is  to  for-gon  Criseyde;" 

And  to  deliveren  Antenor  they  preyde. 

Sk.(  IV,  162-196 


194  CHAUCER 


IV,  148-182 


O  lu venal,  lord!  trewe  is  thy  sentence 

That  litel  witen  folk  what  is  to  yerne 

That  they  ne  finde  in  hir  desyr  offence; 

For  cloude  of  errour  lat  hem  not  descerne 

What  best  is:  and  lo,  heer  ensample  as  yerne. 

This  folk  desiren  now  deliveraunce 

Of  Antenor,  that  broughte  hem  to  mischaunce! 

For  he  was  after  traytour  to  the  toun 

Of  Troye;  alias!  they  quitte  him  out  to  rathe! 

O  nyce  world,  lo,  thy  discrecioun ! 

Criseyde,  which  that  nevere  did  hem  skathe, 

Shal  now  no  lenger  in  hir  blisse  bathe; 

But  Antenor,  he  shal  come  hoom  to  toune, 

And  she  shal  oute:  thus  seyden  here  and  howne. 

For  which  delibered  was  by  parlement 
For  Antenor  to  yelden  up  Criseyde, 
And  it  pronounced  by  the  president, 
Al-theigh  that  Ector  "Nay"  ful  ofte  preyde. 
And  fynaly  what  wight  that  it  with-seyde, 
It  was  for  nought,  it  moste  been,  and  sholde; 
For  substaunce  of  the  parlement  it  wolde. 

Departed  out  of  parlement  echone, 

This  Troilus,  with-oute  wordes  mo, 

Un-to  his  chaumbre  spedde  him  faste  allone, 

But-if  it  were  a  man  of  his  or  two, 

The  which  he  bad  oute  faste  for  to  go 

By-cause  he  wolde  slepen,  as  he  seyde, 

And  hastely  up-on  his  bed  him  leyde. 

He  rist  him  up,  and  every  dore  he  shette 
And  windowe  eek,  and  tho  this  sorweful  man 
Up-on  his  beddes  syde  a-doun  him  sette, 
Ful  lyk  a  deed  image  pale  and  wan. 
And  in  his  brest  the  heped  wo  bigan 
Out-breste,  and  he  to  werken  in  this  wyse 
In  his  woodnesse,  as  I  shal  yow  devyse. 

Sk.,  IV,  197-224;  232-238 


:v,  183-217  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  195 

Right  as  the  wilde  bole  biginneth  springe 
Now  heer,  now  ther,  y-darted  to  the  herte, 
And  of  his  deeth  roreth  in  compleyninge, 
Right  so  gan  he  aboute  the  chaumbre  sterte, 
Smyting  his  brest  ay  with  his  festes  smerte. 
His  head  ay  to  the  wal,  his  body  to  the  grounde, 
Ful  ofte  he  swapte,  him-selven  to  confounde. 

But  after  whan  the  furie  and  the  rage 
Which  that  his  herte  twiste  and  faste  threste, 
By  lengthe  of  tyme  somwhat  gan  asswage, 
Up-on  his  bed  he  leyde  him  doun  to  reste. 
But  tho  bigonne  his  teres  more  out-breste 
That  wonder  is  the  body  may  suffyse 
To  half  this  wo  which  that  I  yow  devyse. 

Than  seyde  he  thus,  "  For  tune!  alias,  the  whyle! 
What  have  I  doon,  what  have  I  thus  a-gilt? 
How  mightestow  for  reuthe  me  bigyle? 
Is  ther  no  grace,  and  shal  I  thus  be  spilt? 
Shal  thus  Criseyde  awey  for  that  thou  wilt? 
Alias!  how  maystow  in  thyn  herte  finde 
To  been  to  me  thus  cruel  and  unkinde? 

"O  olde,  unholsom,  and  mislyved  man! 

Calkas  I  mene,  alias!  what  eyleth  thee 

To  been  a  Greek,  sin  thou  art  born  Troian? 

O  Calkas,  which  that  wilt  my  bane  be, 

In  cursed  tyme  was  thou  born  for  me! 

As  wolde  blisful  love,  for  his  loye, 

That  I  thee  hadde  wher  I  wolde  in  Troye!" 

A  thousand  sykes  hotter  than  the  glede 
Out  of  his  brest  ech  after  other  wente, 
Medled  with  pleyntes  newe,  his  wo  to  fede, 
For  which  his  woful  teres  nevere  stente. 
And  shortly,  so  his  peynes  him  to-rente 
And  wex  so  mat  that  loye  nor  penaunce 
He  feleth  noon,  but  lyth  forth  in  a  traunce. 

Sk  .IV,  239-245;  253-266;  330-343 


196  CHAUCER  iv,  218-252 

Pandare,  which  that  in  the  parlement 

Had  herd  what  every  lord  and  burgeys  seyde, 

And  how  ful  graunted  was  by  oon  assent 

For  Antenor  to  yelden  so  Criseyde, 

Gan  wel  neigh  wood  out  of  his  wit  to  breyde, 

So  that  for  wo  he  niste  what  he  mente; 

But  in  a  rees  to  Troilus  he  wente. 

A  certeyn  knight,  that  for  the  tyme  kepte 
The  chaumbre-dore,  un-did  it  him  anoon. 
And  Pandare,  that  ful  tendreliche  wepte, 
In-to  the  derke  chaumbre,  as  stille  as  stoon, 
Toward  the  bed  gan  softely  to  goon, 
So  confus  that  he  niste  what  to  seye. 
For  verray  wo  his  wit  was  neigh  aweye. 

And  with  his  chere  and  loking  al  to-tqrn 

For  sorwe  of  this,  and  with  his  armes  folden, 

He  stood  this  woful  Troilus  biforn 

And  on  his  pitous  face  he  gan  biholden. 

But  Lord,  so  often  gan  his  herte  colden, 

Seing  his  frend  in  wo,  whos  hevinesse 

His  herte  slow,  as  thoughte  him,  for  distresse! 

But  at  the  laste  this  woful  Troilus, 
Ney  ded  for  smert,  gan  bresten  oute  to  rore, 
And  with  a  sorwful  noyse  he  seyde  thus 
Among  his  sobbes  and  his  sykes  sore: 
"Lo!  Pandare,  I  am  deed,  with-outen  more. 
Hastow  nought  herd  at  parlement,"  he  seyde, 
"For  Antenor  how  lost  is  my  Criseyde?" 

This  Pandarus,  ful  deed  and  pale  of  hewe, 

Ful  pitously  answerde  and  seyde,  "  Yis! 

As  wisly  were  it  fals  as  it  is  trewe 

That  I  have  herd  and  wot  al  how  it  is! 

O  mercy,  God,  who  wolde  have  trowed  this? 

Who  wolde  have  wend  that  in  so  litel  a  throwe 

Fortune  our  loye  wolde  han  over-throwe? 

Sk.,  IV,  344-364;  372-385 


iv,  253-287  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  197 

"But  telle  me  this,  why  thou  art  now  so  mad 

To  sorwen  thus?  why  lystow  in  this  wyse, 

Sin  thy  desyr  al  holly  hastow  had, 

So  that  by  right  it  oughte  y-now  suffyse? 

But  I,  that  nevere  felte  in  my  servyse 

A  frendly  chere  or  loking  of  an  ye, 

Lat  me  thus  wepe  and  wayle,  til  I  dye. 

"And  over  al  this,  as  thou  wel  wost  thy-selve, 
This  town  is  ful  of  ladies  al  aboute; 
And  to  my  doom,  fairer  than  swiche  twelve 
As  evere  she  was,  shal  I  finde  in  som  route, 
Ye,  oon  or  two,  with-outen  any  doute. 
For-thy  be  glad,  myn  owene  dere  brother, 
If  she  be  lost,  we  shul  recovere  another." 

Thise  wordes  seyde  he  for  the  nones  alle 
To  helpe  his  freend  lest  he  for  sorwe  deyde. 
For  doutelees,  to  doon  his  wo  to  falle, 
He  roughte  not  what  unthrif t  that  he  seyde. 
But  Troilus,  that  neigh  for  sorwe  deyde, 
Tok  litel  hede  of  al  that  evere  he  mente: 
Oon  ere  it  herde,  at  the  other  oute  it  wente. 

But  at  the  laste  answerde  and  seyde,  "Freend, 

This  lechecraft,  or  heled  thus  to  be, 

Were  wel  sitting  if  that  I  were  a  feend, 

To  traysen  hir  that  trewe  is  unto  me! 

I  pray  God  lat  this  consayl  nevere  y-thee; 

But  do  me  rather  sterve  anon-right  here 

Er  I  thus  do  as  thou  me  woldest  lere. 

"  She  that  I  serve,  y-wis,  what  so  thou  seye, 
To  whom  myn  herte  enhabit  is  by  right, 
Shal  han  me  holly  hires  til  that  I  deye. 
For  Pandarus,  sin  I  have  trouthe  hir  night, 
I  wol  not  been  untrewe  for  no  wight; 
But  as  hir  man  I  wol  ay  live  and  sterve 
And  nevere  other  creature  serve. 

Sk.,  IV,  393-406;  428-448 


198  CHAUCER  iv,  288-322 

"And  ther  thou  seyst  thou  shall  as  faire  finde 
As  she,  lat  be,  make  no  comparisoun 
To  creature  y-formed  heer  by  kinde. 

0  leve  Pandare,  in  conclusioun, 

1  wol  not  be  of  thyn  opinioun, 
Touching  al  this.  For  which  I  thee  biseche 

So  hold  thy  pees;  thou  sleest  me  with  thy  speche!" 

This  Troilus  in  teres  gan  distille 
As  licour  out  of  alambyk  ful  faste; 
And  Pandarus  gan  holde  his  tunge  stille, 
And  to  the  grounde  his  eyen  doun  he  caste. 
But  nathelees,  thus  thoughte  he  at  the  laste, 
"What,  parde,  rather  than  my  felawe  deye, 
Yet  shal  I  som-what  more  un-to  him  seye." 

And  seyde  "Freend,  sin  thou  hast  swich  distresse, 
And  sin  thee  list  myn  arguments  to  blame, 
Why  nilt  thy-selven  helpen  doon  redresse, 
And  with  thy  manhod  letten  al  this  grame? 
Go  ravisshe  hir  ne  canstow  not?  For  shame! 
And  outher  lat  hir  out  of  toune  fare, 
Or  hold  hir  stille  and  leve  thy  nyce  fare! 

"  Artow  in  Troye,  and  hast  non  hardiment 
To  take  a  womman  which  that  loveth  thee, 
And  wolde  hir-selven  been  of  thyn  assent? 
Now  is  not  this  a  nyce  vanitee? 
Rys  up  anoon,  and  lat  this  weping  be, 
And  kyth  thou  art  a  man;  for  in  this  houre 
I  wil  be  deed,  or  she  shal  bleven  oure." 

To  this  answerde  him  Troilus  ful  softe 
And  seyde,  "Parde,  leve  brother  dere, 
Al  this  have  I  my-self  yet  thought  ful  ofte, 
And  more  thing  than  thou  devysest  here. 
But  why  this  thing  is  laft,  thou  shalt  wel  here; 
And  whan  thou  me  hast  yeve  an  audience, 
Ther-after  mayst  thou  telle  al  thy  sentence. 

Sk.,  IV.  449-455;  519-546 


iv,  323-357  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  199 

"  First,  sin  thou  wost  this  toun  hath  al  this  werre 

For  ravisshing  of  wommen  so  by  might, 

It  sholde  not  be  suffred  me  to  erre, 

As  it  stant  now,  ne  doon  so  gret  unright. 

I  sholde  han  also  blame  of  every  wight, 

My  fadres  graunt  if  that  I  so  withstode, 

Sin  she  is  chaunged  for  the  tounes  goode. 

"  I  have  eek  thought,  so  were  it  hir  assent, 
To  aske  hir  at  my  fader  of  his  grace; 
Than  thenke  I  this  were  hir  accusement, 
Sin  wel  I  woot  I  may  hir  not  purchace. 
For  sin  my  fader  in  so  heigh  a  place 
As  parlement  hath  hir  eschaunge  enseled, 
He  nil  for  me  his  lettre  be  repeled. 

"Yet  drede  I  most  hir  herte  to  pertourbe 
With  violence,  if  I  do  swich  a  game; 
For  if  I  wolde  it  openly  distourbe, 
It  moste  been  disclaundre  to  hir  name. 
And  me  were  lever  deed  than  hir  defame, 
As  nolde  God  but-if  I  sholde  have 
Hir  honour  lever  than  my  lyf  to  save! 

"Thus  am  I  lost  for  ought  that  I  can  see; 
For  certeyn  is  sin  that  I  am  hir  knight, 
I  moste  hir  honour  lever  han  than  me 
In  every  cas,  as  lover  oughte  of  right. 
Thus  am  I  with  desyr  and  reson  twight: 
Desyr  for  to  distourben  hir  me  redeth, 
And  reson  nil  not,  so  myn  herte  dredeth." 

Thus  weping  that  he  coude  nevere  cesse, 
He  seyde,  "Alias!  how  shal  I,  wrecche,  fare? 
For  wel  fele  I  alwey  my  love  encresse, 
And  hope  is  lasse  and  lasse  alwey,  Pandare! 
Encressen  eek  the  causes  of  my  care: 
So  wel-a-wey,  why  nil  myn  herte  breste? 
For  as  in  love  ther  is  but  litel  reste." 

Sk..  IV,  547-581 


200  CHAUCER  iv,  358-392 

Pandare  answerde,  "Freend,  thou  mayst,  for  me, 

Don  as  thee  list.  But  had  ich  it  so  hote, 

And  thyn  estat,  she  sholde  go  with  me. 

Though  al  this  toun  cryede  on  this  thing  by  note, 

I  nolde  sette  at  al  that  noyse  a  grote. 

For  when  men  han  wel  cryed,  than  wol  they  roune: 

A  wonder  last  but  nyne  night  nevere  in  toune. 

"Devyne  not  in  reson  ay  so  depe 

Ne  curteysly,  but  help  thy-self  anoon. 

Bet  is  that  othere  than  thy-selven  wepe, 

And  namely,  sin  ye  two  been  al  oon. 

Rys  up,  for  by  myn  heed,  she  shal  not  goon! 

And  rather  be  in  blame  a  lyte  y-founde 

Than  sterve  heer  as  a  gnat  with-oute  wounde!  " 

This  Troilus  gan  with  tho  wordes  quiken, 
And  seyde,  "  Freend,  graunt  mercy,  ich  assente. 
But  certaynly  thou  mayst  not  me  so  priken, 
Ne  peyne  anoon  ne  may  me  so  tormente, 
That  for  no  cas  it  is  not  myn  entente, 
At  shorte  wordes,  though  I  dyen  sholde, 
To  ravisshe  hir,  but-if  hir-self  it  wolde." 

"Why,  so  mene  I,"  quod  Pandarus,  "al  this  day. 
But  telle  me  than,  has  tow  hir  wel  assayed, 
That  sorwest  thus?"  And  he  answerde,  "Nay." 
"Wher-of  artow,"  quod  Pandare,  "than  a-mayed, 
That  nost  not  that  she  wol  ben  yvel  apayed 
To  ravisshe  hir,  sin  thou  hast  not  ben  there, 
But-if  that  love  tolde  it  in  thyn  ere? 

"For-thy  rys  up,  as  nought  ne  were,  anoon, 
And  wash  thy  face,  and  to  the  king  thou  wende, 
Or  he  may  wondren  whider  thou  art  goon. 
Thou  most  with  wisdom  him  and  othere  blende; 
Or  up-on  cas  he  may  after  thee  sende 
Er  thou  be  war.  And  shortly,  brother  dere, 
Be  glad  and  lat  me  werke  in  this  matere. 

Sk.,  IV,  582-595;  631-651 


iv,  393-427  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  201 

"For  I  shal  shape  it  so  that  sikerly 

Thou  shalt  this  night  som  tyme  in  som  manere 

Com  speke  with  thy  lady  prevely, 

And  by  hir  wordes  eek  and  by  hir  chere 

Thou  shalt  ful  sone  aparceyve  and  wel  here 

Al  hir  entente,  and  in  this  cas  the  beste. 

And  far  now  wel,  for  in  this  poynt  I  reste." 

The  swifte  Fame,  which  that  false  thinges 
Egal  reporteth  lyk  the  thinges  trewe, 
Was  thorugh-oute  Troye  y-fled  with  preste  winges 
Fro  man  to  man,  and  made  this  tale  al  newe, 
How  Calkas  doughter  with  hir  brighte  hewe, 
At  parlement,  with-oute  wordes  more, 
I-graunted  was  in  chaunge  of  Antenore. 

The  whiche  tale  anoon-right  as  Criseyde 

Had  herd,  she  which  that  of  hir  fader  roughte, 

As  in  this  cas,  right  nought,  ne  whan  he  deyde, 

Ful  bisily  to  luppiter  bisoughte 

Yeve  him  mischaunce  that  this  tretis  broughte. 

But  shortly,  lest  thise  tales  sothe  were, 

She  dorste  at  no  wight  asken  it  for  fere. 

As  she  that  had  hir  herte  and  al  hir  minde 

On  Troilus  y-set  so  wonder  faste 

That  al  this  world  ne  mighte  hir  love  unbinde 

Ne  Troilus  out  of  hir  herte  caste, 

She  wol  ben  his,  whyl  that  hir  lyf  may  laste. 

And  thus  she  brenneth  bothe  in  love  and  dredet 

So  that  she  niste  what  was  best  to  rede. 

But  as  men  seen  in  toune  and  al  aboute 
That  wommen  usen  f rendes  to  visyte, 
So  to  Criseyde  of  wommen  com  a  route 
For  pitous  loye,  and  wenden  hir  delyte. 
And  with  hir  tales  dere  y-nough  a  myte, 
These  wommen,  which  that  in  the  cite  dwelle, 
They  sette  hem  doun  and  seyde  as  I  shal  telle. 

Sk.,  IV,  652-686 


202  CHAUCER  iv,  428-462 

Quod  first  that  oon,  "I  am  glad  trewely 

By-cause  of  yow  that  shal  your  fader  see." 

A-nother  seyde,  "  Y-wis,  so  nam  not  I; 

For  al  to  litel  hath  she  with  us  be." 

Quod  tho  the  thridde,  "I  hope,  y-wis,  that  she 

Shal  bringen  us  the  pees  on  every  syde, 

That  whan  she  gooth,  almighty  God  hir  gyde!" 

Tho  wordes  and  tho  wommanisshe  thinges 
She  herde  hem  right  as  though  she  thennes  were; 
For,  God  it  wot,  hir  herte  on  other  thing  is, 
Although  the  body  sat  among  hem  there. 
Hir  advertence  is  alwey  elles- where; 
For  Troilus  ful  faste  hir  soule  soughte, 
With-outen  word  alwey  on  him  she  thoughte. 

For  which  no  lenger  mighte  she  restreyne 
Hir  teres,  so  they  gonnen  up  to  welle, 
That  yeven  signes  of  the  bittre  peyne 
In  which  hir  spirit  was  and  moste  dwelle, 
Remembring  hir,  fro  hevene  unto  which  helle 
She  fallen  was  sith  she  forgoth  the  sighte 
Of  Troilus;  and  sorowfully  she  sighte. 

And  thilke  foles  sitting  hir  aboute 
Wenden  that  she  wepte  and  syked  sore 
By-cause  that  she  sholde  out  of  that  route 
Departe  and  nevere  pleye  with  hem  more. 
And  they  that  had  y-knowen  hir  of  yore 
Seye  hir  so  wepe,  and  thoughte  it  kindenesse, 
And  ech  of  hem  wepte  eek  for  hir  distresse. 

But  after  al  this  nyce  vanitee 

They  toke  hir  leve,  and  hoom  they  wenten  alle. 

Criseyde  ful  of  sorweful  pitee, 

In-to  hir  chaumbre  up  wente  out  of  the  halle, 

And  on  hir  bed  she  gan  for  deed  to  falle, 

In  purpos  nevere  thennes  for  to  ryse. 

And  thus  she  wroughte  as  I  shal  yow  devyse. 

Sk.,  IV,  687-700;  708-721;  72^-735 


iv,  463-497  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  203 

Hir  ounded  heer  that  sonnish  was  of  hewe, 
She  rente,  and  eek  hir  fingres  longe  and  smale 
She  wrong  ful  ofte,  and  bad  God  on  hir  rewe 
And  with  the  deeth  to  doon  bote  on  hir  bale. 
Hir  hewe,  whylom  bright,  that  tho  was  pale, 
Bar  witnesse  of  hir  wo  and  hir  constreynte. 
And  thus  she  spak,  sobbing  in  hir  compleynte: 

"Alas!"  quod  she,  "out  of  this  regioun 

I,  woful  wrecche  and  infortuned  wight, 

And  born  in  corsed  constellacioun, 

Mot  goon,  and  thus  departen  fro  my  knight. 

Wo  worth,  alias!  that  ilke  dayes  light 

On  which  I  saw  him  first  with  eyen  tweyne, 

That  causeth  me,  and  I  him,  al  this  peyne!" 

Therwith  the  teres  from  hir  eyen  two 
Doun  fille  as  shour  in  Aperill  ful  swythe. 
Hir  whyte  brest  she  bet,  and  for  the  wo 
After  the  deeth  she  cryed  a  thousand  sythe, 
Sin  he  that  wont  hir  wo  was  for  to  lythe 
She  mot  for-goon;  for  which  disaventure 
She  held  hir-self  a  forlost  creature. 

How  mighte  it  evere  y-red  ben  or  y-songe, 

The  pleynte  that  she  made  in  hir  distresse? 

I  noot;  but  as  for  me,  my  litel  tonge, 

If  I  discreven  wolde  hir  hevinesse, 

It  sholde  make  hir  sorwe  seme  lesse 

Than  that  it  was,  and  childishly  deface 

Hir  heigh  compleynte,  and  therfore  ich  it  pace. 

Pandare,  which  that  sent  from  Troilus 
Was  to  Criseyde,  as  ye  han  herd  devyse. 
That  for  the  beste  it  was  accorded  thus, 
And  he  ful  glad  to  doon  him  that  servyse, 
Un-to  Criseyde  in  a  ful  secree  wyse, 
Ther-as  she  lay  in  torment  and  in  rage, 
Com  hir  to  telle  al  hoolly  his  message. 

Sk.,  IV.  736-756;  799-812 


204  CHAUCER  iv,  498-532 

And  fond  that  she  hir-selven  gan  to  trete 
Ful  pitously;  for  with  hir  salte  teres 
Hir  brest,  hir  face,  y-bathed  was  ful  wete; 
The  mighty  tresses  of  hir  sonnish  heres 
Unbroyden  hangen  al  aboute  hir  eres, 
Which  yaf  him  verray  signal  of  martyre 
Of  deeth,  which  that  hir  herte  gan  desyre. 

Whan  she  him  saw,  she  gan  for  sorwe  anoon 
Hir  tery  face  a-twixe  hir  armes  hyde, 
For  which  this  Pandare  is  so  wo  bi-goon 
That  in  the  hous  he  mighte  unnethe  abyde, 
As  he  that  pitee  felte  on  every  syde. 
For  if  Criseyde  had  erst  compleyned  sore, 
Tho  gan  she  pleyne  a  thousand  tymes  more. 

And  in  hir  aspre  pleynte  than  she  seyde, 
"Pandare  first  of  loyes  mo  than  two 
Was  cause  causing  un-to  me  Criseyde, 
That  now  transmuwed  been  in  cruel  wo. 
Wher  shal  I  seye  to  yow  '  welcome'  or  no, 
That  alderfirst  me  broughte  in-to  servyse 
Of  love,  alias!  that  endeth  in  swich  wyse?" 

"And  thou,  my  suster,  ful  of  discomfort," 
Quod  Pandarus,  "what  thenkestow  to  do? 
Why  ne  hastow  to  thy-selven  som  resport, 
Why  woltow  thus  thy-selve,  alias!  for-do? 
Leef  al  this  werk  and  tak  now  hede  to 
That  I  shal  seyn,  and  herkne  of  good  entente 
This,  which  by  me  thy  Troilus  thee  sente." 

Tornede  hir  tho  Criseyde,  a  wo  makinge 

So  greet  that  it  a  deeth  was  for  to  see: — 

"Alias!"  quod  she,  "what  wordes  may  ye  bringe? 

What  wol  my  dere  herte  seyn  to  me, 

Which  that  I  drede  nevere-mo  to  see? 

Wol  he  have  pleynte  or  teres  er  I  wende? 

I  have  y-nowe,  if  he  ther-after  sende!" 

Sk.,  IV,  813-833;  848-861 


iv,  533-567  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  205 

She  was  right  swich  to  seen  in  hir  visage 

As  is  that  wight  that  men  on  here  binder 

Hir  face,  lyk  of  Paradys  the  image, 

Was  al  y-chaunged  in  another  kinde. 

The  pley,  the  laughtre  men  was  wont  to  finde 

In  hir,  and  eek  hir  loyes  everychone, 

Ben  fled,  and  thus  lyth  now  Criseyde  allone. 

Aboute  hir  eyen  two  a  purpre  ring 
Bi-trent  in  sothfast  tokning  of  hir  peyne, 
That  to  biholde  it  was  a  dedly  thing, 
For  which  Pandare  mighte  not  restreyne 
The  teres  from  his  eyen  for  to  reyne. 
But  nathelees,  as  he  best  mighte,  he  seyde 
From  Troilus  thise  wordes  to  Criseyde: — 

"Lo,  nece,  I  trowe  ye  han  herd  al  how 
The  king  with  othere  lordes  for  the  beste 
Hath  mad  eschaunge  of  Antenor  and  yow, 
That  cause  is  of  this  sorwe  and  this  unreste. 
But  how  this  cas  doth  Troilus  moleste, 
That  may  non  erthely  mannes  tonge  seye; 
For  verray  wo  his  wit  is  al  aweye. 

"For  which  we  han  so  sorwed,  he  and  I, 
That  in- to  litel  bothe  it  had  us  slawe; 
But  thurgh  my  conseil  this  day  fynally 
He  somwhat  is  fro  weping  now  with-drawe. 
And  semeth  me  that  he  desyreth  fawe 
With  yow  to  been  al  night  for  to  devyse 
Remede  in  this,  if  ther  were  any  wyse." 

"  Gret  is  my  wo,"  quod  she,  and  sighte  sore 
As  she  that  feleth  dedly  sharp  distresse; 
"But  yet  to  me  his  sorwe  is  muchel  more, 
That  love  him  bet  than  he  him-self ,  I  gesse. 
Alias!  for  me  hath  he  swiche  hevinesse? 
Can  he  for  me  so  pitously  compleyne? 
Y-wis,  this  sorwe  doubleth  al  my  peyne0 

Sk.,  IV,  862-889;  897-903 


206  CHAUCER  iv,  568-602 

Grevous  to  me,  God  wot,  is  for  to  twinne," 

Quod  she,  "but  yet  it  harder  is  to  me 

To  seen  that  sorwe  which  that  he  is  inne; 

For  wel  wot  I  it  wol  my  bane  be, 

And  deye  I  wol  in  certayn,"  tho  quod  she. 

"But  bidde  him  come,  er  deeth,  that  thus  me  threteth, 

Dryve  oute  that  goost  which  in  myn  herte  beteth." 

Thise  wordes  seyd,  she  on  hir  armes  two 
Fil  gruf ,  and  gan  to  wepe  pitously. 
Quod  Pandarus,  "Alias!  why  do  ye  so, 
Syn  wel  ye  wot  the  tyme  is  faste  by 
That  he  shal  come?    Arys  up  hastely 
That  he  yow  nat  biwopen  thus  ne  finde, 
But  ye  wol  han  him  wood  out  of  his  minde! 

"For  wiste  he  that  ye  ferde  in  this  manere, 
He  wolde  him-selve  slee;  and  if  I  wende 
To  han  this  fare,  he  sholde  not  come  here 
For  al  the  good  that  Pryam  may  dispende. 
For  to  what  fyn  he  wolde  anoon  pretende, 
That  knowe  I  wel;  and  for- thy  yet  I  seye, 
So  leef  this  sorwe  or  platly  he  wol  deye." 

"Go,"  quod  Criseyde,  "and  uncle,  trewely, 
I  shal  don  al  my  might  me  to  restreyne 
From  weping  in  his  sighte,  and  bisily, 
Him  for  to  glade,  I  shal  don  al  my  peyne, 
And  in  myn  herte  seken  every  veyne. 
If  to  this  soore  ther  may  be  founden  salve 
It  shal  not  lakken,  certain,  on  myn  halve." 

Goth  Pandarus,  and  Troilus  he  soughte 

Til  in  a  temple  he  fond  him  al  allone, 

As  he  that  of  his  lyf  no  lenger  roughte. 

But  to  the  pitouse  goddes  everichone 

Ful  tendrely  he  preyde  and  made  his  mone 

To  doon  him  sone  out  of  this  world  to  pace; 

For  wel  he  thoughte  ther  was  non  other  grace. 

Sk.,  IV,  904-924;  939-952 


iv,  603- 637  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  207 

And  shortly,  al  the  sothe  for  to  seye, 
He  was  so  fallen  in  despeyr  that  day 
That  outrely  he  shoop  him  for  to  deye. 
For  right  thus  was  his  argument  alwey: 
He  seyde  he  nas  but  loren,  waylawey! 
"For  al  that  comth,  comth  by  necessitee; 
Thus  to  be  lorn,  it  is  my  destinee. 

"For  certaynly  this  wot  I  wel,"  he  seyde, 
"That  for-sighte  of  divyne  purveyaunce 
Hath  seyn  alwey  me  to  for-gon  Criseyde, 
Sin  God  seeth  every  thing,  out  of  doutaunce, 
And  hem  desponeth  thourgh  his  ordenaunce 
In  hir  merytes  sothly  for  to  be 
As  they  shul  comen  by  predestinee. 

"But  nathelees,  alias!  whom  shal  I  leve? 
For  ther  ben  grete  clerkes  many  oon 
That  destinee  thorugh  argumentes  preve; 
And  som  men  seyn  that  nedely  ther  is  noon, 
But  that  free  chois  is  yeven  us  everichoon. 
O,  welaway!  so  sleye  arn  clerkes  olde 
That  I  not  whos  opinion  I  may  holde. 

"For  som  men  seyn,  if  God  seth  al  biforn, 
Ne  God  may  not  deceyved  ben,  pardee, 
Than  moot  it  fallen,  though  men  had  it  sworn, 
That  purveyaunce  hath  seyn  bifore  to  be. 
Wherfore  I  seye  that  from  eterne  if  he 
Hath  wist  biforn  our  thought  eek  as  our  dede, 
We  have  no  free  chois,  as  these,  clerkes  rede." 

Than  seyde  he  thus,  "Almighty  love  in  trone 
That  wost  of  al  this  thing  the  soothfastnesse, 
Rewe  on  my  sorwe  or  do  me  deye  sone, 
Or  bring  Criseyde  and  me  fro  this  distresse." 
And  whyl  he  was  in  al  this  hevinesse 
Disputing  with  him-self  in  this  matere, 
Com  Pandare  in  and  seyde  as  ye  may  here. 

Sk.f  IV,  953-980;  1079-1085 


208  CHAUCER  iv,  638-672 

"O  mighty  God,"  quod  Pandarus,  "in  trone, 
Ey!  who  seigh  evere  a  wys  man  faren  so? 
Why,  Troilus,  what  thenkestow  to  done? 
Hastow  swich  lust  to  been  thyn  owene  fo? 
What,  parde,  yet  is  not  Criseyde  a-go! 
Why  lust  thee  so  thy-self  for-doon  for  drede 
That  in  thyn  heed  thyn  eyen  semen  dede? 

"  Has  tow  not  lived  many  a  yeer  biforn 
With-outen  hir,  and  ferd  ful  wel  at  ese? 
Artow  for  hir  and  for  non  other  born? 
Hath  kinde  thee  wroughte  al-only  hir  to  plese? 
Lat  be,  and  thenk  right  thus  in  thy  disese, 
That,  in  the  dees  right  as  ther  fallen  chaunces, 
Right  so  in  love  ther  come  and  goon  plesaunces. 

"And  yet  this  is  a  wonder  most  of  alle, 
Why  thou  thus  sorwest,  sin  thou  nost  not  yit, 
Touching  hir  going,  how  that  it  shal  falle, 
Ne  if  she  can  hir-self  distorben  it. 
Thou  hast  not  yet  assayed  al  hir  wit. 
A  man  may  al  by  tyme  his  nekke  bede 
Whan  it  shal  of,  and  sorwen  at  the  nede. 

"For-thy  tak  hede  of  that  that  I  shal  seye: 
I  have  with  hir  y-spoke  and  longe  y-be, 
So  as  accorded  was  bitwixe  us  tweye. 
And  evere-mo  me  thinketh  thus,  that  she 
Hath  som-what  in  hir  hertes  prevetee 
Wher-with  she  can,  if  I  shal  right  arede, 
Distorbe  al  this  of  which  thou  art  in  drede. 

"For  which  my  counseil  is,  whan  it  is  night, 
Thou  to  hir  go  and  make  of  this  an  ende; 
And  blisful  luno  thourgh  hir  grete  might 
Shal,  as  I  hope,  hir  grace  un-to  us  sende. 
Myn  herte  seyth,  'Certeyn  she  shal  not  wende;' 
And  for-thy  put  thyn  herte  a  whyle  in  reste, 
And  hold  this  purpos,  for  it  is  the  beste." 

Sk.,  IV,  1086-1120 


iv,  673-707  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  209 

This  Troilus  answerde,  and  sighte  sore, 
"Thou  seyst  right  wel,  and  I  wil  do  right  so;" 
And  what  him  liste,  he  seyde  un-to  it  more. 
And  whan  that  it  was  tyme  for  to  go, 
Ful  prevely  him-self,  with-outen  mo, 
Un-to  hir  com  as  he  was  wont  to  done. 
And  how  they  wroughte,  I  shal  yow  telle  sone. 

Soth  is  that  whan  they  gonne  first  to  mete, 

So  gan  the  peyne  hir  hertes  for  to  twiste 

That  neither  of  hem  other  mighte  grete, 

But  hem  in  armes  toke  and  after,  kiste. 

The  lasse  woful  of  hem  bothe  niste 

Wher  that  he  was,  ne  mighte  o  word  out-bringe, 

As  I  seyde  erst,  for  wo  and  for  sobbinge. 

Tho  woful  teres  that  they  leten  falle 

As  bittre  weren,  out  of  teres  kinde, 

For  peyne  as  is  ligne  aloes  or  galle. 

So  bittre  teres  weep  nought,  as  I  finde, 

The  woful  Myrra  through  the  bark  and  rinde. 

That  in  this  world  ther  nis  so  hard  an  herte 

That  nolde  han  rewed  on  hir  peynes  smerte. 

But  whan  hir  woful  wery  gostes  tweyne 

Retorned  been  ther-as  hem  oughte  dwelle, 

And  that  som-what  to  wayken  gan  the  peyne 

By  lengthe  of  pleynte,  and  ebben  gan  the  welle 

Of  hir  teres,  and  the  herte  unswelle, 

With  broken  voys  al  hoors  for  shright,  Criseyde 

To  Troilus  thise  ilke  wordes  seyde: 

"O  love,  I  deye,  and  mercy  I  beseche! 
Help,  Troilus!"  and  ther-with-al  hir  face 
Upon  his  brest  she  leyde,  and  loste  speche; 
Hir  woful  spirit  from  his  propre  place 
Right  with  the  word  alwey  up  poynt  to  pace. 
And  thus  she  lyth  with  hewes  pale  and  grene, 
That  whylom  freshe  and  fairest  was  to  sene. 

Sk.,  IV,  1121-1155 


210  CHAUCER  iv,  708-742 

/ 

This  Troilus,  that  on  hir  gan  biholde, 
Cleping  hir  name — and  she  lay  as  for  deed 
With-oute  answere,  and  felte  hir  limes  colde, 
Hir  eyen  throwen  upward  to  hir  heed — 
This  sorwful  man  can  now  noon  other  reed, 
But  ofte  tyme  hir  colde  mouth  he  kiste. 
Wher  him  was  wo,  God  and  him-self  it  wiste! 

He  rist  him  up  and  longe  streight  he  hir  leyde; 
For  signe  of  lyf,  for  ought  he  can  or  may, 
Can  he  noon  finde  in  no-thing  on  Criseyde, 
For  which  his  song  ful  ofte  is  "Weylaway!" 
But  whan  he  saugh  that  specheles  she  lay, 
With  sorwful  voys  and  herte  of  blisse  al  bare 
He  seyde  how  she  was  fro  this  world  y-fare! 

So  after  that  he  longe  had  hir  complayned, 

His  hondes  wrong,  and  seyde  that  was  to  seye, 

And  with  his  teres  salte  hir  brest  bireyned, 

He  gan  tho  teris  wypen  of  ful  dreye, 

And  pitously  gan  for  the  soule  preye, 

And  seyde,  "O  Lord,  that  set  art  in  thy  trone, 

Rewe  eek  on  me,  for  I  shal  folwe  hir  sone!" 

And  after  this,  with  sterne  and  cruel  herte, 
His  swerd  a-noon  out  of  his  shethe  he  twighte 
Him-self  to  sleen,  how  sore  that  him  smerte, 
So  that  his  sowle  hir  sowle  folwen  mighte 
Ther-as  the  doom  of  Mynos  wolde  it  dighte, 
Sin  Love  and  cruel  Fortune  it  ne  wolde 
That  in  this  world  he  lenger  liven  sholde. 

Than  seyde  he  thus,  fulfild  of  heigh  desdayn, 
"  O  cruel  love,  and  thou,  Fortune  adverse, 
This  al  and  som,  that  falsly  have  ye  slayn 
Criseyde,  and  sin  ye  may  do  me  no  werse, 
Fy  on  your  might  and  werkes  so  diverse! 
Thus  cowardly  ye  shul  me  nevere  winne. 
Ther  shal  no  deeth  me  fro  my  lady  twinne. 

Sk.,lV,  1156-1176;  1184-1197 


iv,  743-777  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  211 

"And  thou,  citee,  which  that  I  leve  in  wo, 
And  thou,  Pryam,  and  bretheren  al  y-fere, 
And  thou,  my  moder,  farewell  for  I  go! 
And  Attropos,  make  redy  thou  my  here! 
And  thou,  Criseyde,  O  swete  herte  dere, 
Receyve  now  my  spirit!"  wolde  he  seye, 
With  swerd  at  herte  al  redy  for  to  deye. 

But  as  God  wolde,  of  swough  ther-with  she  abreyde 
And  gan  to  syke  and  "Troilus  "  she  cryde. 
And  he  answerde,  "Lady  myn  Criseyde, 
Live  ye  yet?"  and  leet  his  swerd  doun  glyde. 
"Ye,  herte  myn,  that  thanked  be  Cupyde!" 
Quod  she,  and  ther-with-al  she  sore  sighte, 
And  he  bigan  to  glade  hir  as  he  mighte. 

Took  hir  in  armes  two,  and  kiste  hir  ofte, 
And  hir  to  glade  he  did  al  his  entente, 
For  which  hir  goost,  that  flikered  ay  on-lofte, 
In-to  hir  woful  herte  ayein  it  wente. 
But  at  the  laste,  as  that  hir  even  glente 
A-syde,  anoon  she  gan  his  swerd  aspye 
As  it  lay  bare,  and  gan  for  fere  crye, 

And  asked  him  why  he  it  had  out-drawe. 

And  Troilus  anoon  the  cause  hir  tolde, 

And  how  himself  ther-with  he  wolde  have  slawe, 

For  which  Criseyde  up-on  him  gan  biholde, 

And  gan  him  in  hir  armes  faste  folde, 

And  seyde,  "O  mercy,  God,  lo,  which  a  dede! 

Alias!  how  neigh  we  were  bothe  dede! 

"Than  if  I  ne  hadde  spoken,  as  grace  was, 

Ye  wolde  han  slayn  your-self  anoon?"  quod  she. 

"Ye,  douteless;"  and  she  answerde,  "Alias! 

For  by  that  ilke  Lord  that  made  me, 

I  nolde  a  forlong  wey  on-lyve  han  be 

After  your  deeth,  to  han  be  crowned  quene 

Of  al  the  lond  the  sonne  on  shyneth  shene." 

Sk.,  IV,  1205-1239 


212  CHAUCER  iv,  773-812 

Whan  they  were  in  hir  bedde  in  armes  folde, 
Nought  was  it  lyk  tho  nightes  heer-biforn; 
For  pitously  ech  other  gan  biholde 
As  they  that  hadden  al  hir  blisse  y-lorn, 
Biwayling  ay  the  day  that  they  were  born. 
Til  at  the  last  this  sorwful  wight  Criseyde 
To  Troilus  these  ilke  wordes  seyde: — 

"Lo,  herte  myn,  wel  wot  ye  this,"  quod  she, 
"That  if  a  wight  alwey  his  wo  compleyne, 
And  seketh  nought  how  holpen  for  to  be, 
It  nis  but  folye  and  encrees  of  peyne. 
And  sin  that  heer  assembled  be  we  tweyne, 
To  finde  bote  of  wo  that  we  ben  inne 
It  were  al  tyme  sone  to  biginne. 

"I  am  a  womman,  as  ful  wel  ye  woot, 
And  as  I  am  avysed  sodeynly, 
So  wol  I  telle  yow  whyl  it  is  hoot. 
Me  thinketh  thus,  that  neither  ye  nor  I 
Oughte  half  this  wo  to  make  skilfully. 
For  ther  is  art  y-now  for  to  redresse 
That  yet  is  mis,  and  sleen  this  hevinesse. 

"  Sooth  is,  the  wo,  the  which  that  we  ben  inne, 
For  ought  I  woot,  for  no-thing  elles  is 
But  for  the  cause  that  we  sholden  twinne. 
Considered  al,  ther  nis  no-more  amis. 
But  what  is  than  a  remede  un-to  this 
But  that  we  shape  us  sone  for  to  mete? 
This  al  and  som,  my  dere  herte  swete. 

"Now  that  I  shal  wel  bringen  it  aboute 
To  come  ayein,  sone  after  that  I  go, 
Ther-of  am  I  no  maner  thing  in  doute. 
For  dredeles,  with-in  a  wouke  or  two 
I  shal  ben  heer.    And  that  it  may  be  so 
By  alle  right,  and  in  a  wordes  fewe, 
I  shal  yow  wel  an  heep  of  weyes  shewe. 

Sk.,  IV,  1247-1281 


iv,  813-847  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  213 

"Now  herkneth  this,  ye  han  wel  under stonde 

My  going  graunted  is  by  parlement, 

So  ferforth  that  it  may  not  be  with-stonde 

For  al  this  world,  as  by  my  lugement. 

And  sin  ther  helpeth  noon  avysement 

To  letten  it,  lat  it  passe  out  of  minde, 

And  lat  us  shape  a  bettre  wey  to  finde. 

"The  so  the  is  that  the  twinning  of  us  tweyne 
Wol  us  disese  and  cruel  liche  anoye. 
But  him  bihoveth  som-tyme  han  a  peyne 
That  serveth  Love,  if  that  he  wol  have  loye. 
And  sin  I  shal  no  ferther  out  of  Troye 
Than  I  may  ryde  ayein  on  half  a  morwe, 
It  oughte  lasse  causen  us  to  sorwe. 

"So  as  I  shal  not  so  ben  hid  in  muwe 
That  day  by  day,  myn  owene  herte  dere, 
Sin  wel  ye  woot  that  it  is  now  a  truwe, 
Ye  shul  ful  wel  al  myn  estat  y-here. 
And  er  that  truwe  is  doon,  I  shal  ben  here, 
And  than  have  ye  bothe  Antenor  y-wonne 
And  me  also:  beth  glad  now,  if  ye  conne! 

"I  see  that  ofte  ther-as  we  ben  now 
That  for  the  beste,  our  conseil  for  to  hyde, 
Ye  speke  not  with  me  nor  I  with  yow 
In  fourtenight,  ne  see  yow  go  ne  ryde. 
May  ye  not  ten  dayes  than  abyde 
For  myn  honour  in  swich  an  aventure? 
Y-wis,  ye  mowen  elles  lite  endure! 

"Ye  knowe  eek  how  that  al  my  kin  is  here, 

But-if  that  onliche  it  my  fader  be; 

And  eek  myn  othere  thinges  alle  y-fere, 

And  nameliche,  my  dere  herte,  ye, 

Whom  that  I  nolde  leven  for  to  see 

For  al  this  world  as  wyd  as  it  hath  space; 

Or  elles  see  ich  nevere  loves  face! 

Sk.,  IV,  1296-1316;  1324-1337 


214  CHAUCER  iv,  848-882 

"Why  trowe  ye  my  fader  in  this  wyse 
Coveiteth  so  to  see  me,  but  for  drede 
Lest  in  this  toun  that  folkes  me  dispyse 
By-cause  of  him  for  his  unhappy  dede? 
What  woot  my  fader  what  lyf  that  I  lede? 
For  if  he  wiste  in  Troye  how  wel  I  fare, 
Us  nedeth  for  my  wending  nought  to  care. 

"Ye  seen  that  every  day  eek,  more  and  more, 
Men  trete  of  pees.  And  it  supposed  is 
That  men  the  quene  Eleyne  shal  restore, 
And  Grekes  us  restore  that  is  mis. 
So  though  ther  nere  comfort  noon  but  this, 
That  men  purposen  pees  on  every  syde, 
Ye  may  the  bettre  at  ese  of  herte  abyde. 

"And  though  so  be  that  pees  ther  may  be  noon, 
Yet  hider,  though  ther  nevere  pees  ne  were, 
I  moste  come;  for  whider  sholde  I  goon, 
Or  how  mischaunce  sholde  I  dwelle  there 
Among  tho  men  of  armes  evere  in  fere? 
For  which,  as  wisly  God  my  soule  rede, 
I  can  not  seen  wher-of  ye  sholden  drede. 

"Have  heer  another  wey,  if  it  so  be 
That  al  this  thing  ne  may  yow  not  suffyse. 
My  fader,  as  ye  knowen  wel,  pardee, 
Is  old,  and  elde  is  ful  of  coveityse. 
And  I  right  now  have  founden  al  the  gyse, 
With-oute  net,  wher-with  I  shal  him  hente. 
And  herkneth  how,  if  that  ye  wole  assente. 

"The  moeble  which  that  I  have  in  this  toun 
Un-to  my  fader  shal  I  take,  and  seye 
That  right  for  trust  and  for  savacioun 
It  sent  is  from  a  freend  of  his  or  tweye, 
The  whiche  freendes  ferventliche  him  preye 
To  senden  after  more,  and  that  in  hye, 
Whyl  that  this  toun  stant  thus  in  lupartye. 

Sk.,  IV,  1338-1351;  1359-1372;  1380-1386 


iv,  883-917  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  215 

"And  that  shal  been  an  huge  quantitee, 
Thus  shal  I  seyn,  but,  lest  it  folk  aspyde, 
This  may  be  sent  by  no  wight  but  by  me. 
I  shal  eek  shewen  him  if  pees  bityde 
What  frendes  that  ich  have  on  every  syde 
Toward  the  court,  to  doon  the  wrathe  pace 
Of  Priamus,  and  doon  him  stonde  in  grace. 

"So  what  for  o  thing  and  for  other,  swete, 
I  shal  him  so  enchaunten  with  my  sawes 
That  right  in  hevene  his  sowle  is,  shal  he  mete! 
For  al  Appollo  or  his  clerkes  lawes 
Or  calculing  avayleth  nought  three  hawes; 
Desyr  of  gold  shal  so  his  sowle  blende 
That  as  me  lyst  I  shal  wel  make  an  ende. 

"  And  if  he  wolde  ought  by  his  sort  it  preve 
If  that  I  lye,  in  certayn  I  shal  fonde 
Distorben  him  and  plukke  him  by  the  sieve, 
Making  his  sort,  and  beren  him  on  honde, 
He  hath  not  wel  the  goddes  understonde. 
For  goddes  speken  in  amphibologyes, 
And  for  oo  sooth  they  tellen  twenty  lyes. 

"Eek  drede  fond  first  goddes,  I  suppose: 
Thus  shal  I  seyn,  and  that  his  cowarde  herte 
Made  him  amis  the  goddes  text  to  glose 
Whan  he  for  ferde  out  of  his  Delphos  sterte. 
And  but  I  make  him  sone  to  converte 
And  doon  my  reed  with-in  a  day  or  tweye 
I  wol  to  yow  oblige  me  to  deye." 

And  tre*veliche,  as  writen  wel  I  finde, 
That  al  this  thing  was  seyd  of  good  entente; 
And  that  hir  herte  trewe  was  and  kinde 
Towardes  him,  and  spak  right  as  she  mente, 
And  that  she  starf  for  wo  neigh,  whan  she  wente, 
And  was  in  purpos  evere  to  be  trewe. 
Thus  writen  they  that  of  hir  wefkes  knewe. 

Sk.,  IV,  1387-1421 


216  CHAUCER  iv,  918-952 

This  Troilus  with  herte  and  eres  spradde 
Herde  al  this  thing  devysen  to  and  fro; 
And  verraylich  him  semed  that  he  hadde 
The  selve  wit,  but  yet  to  lete  hir  go 
His  herte  misforyaf  him  evere-mo. 
But  fynally  he  gan  his  herte  wreste 
To  trusten  hir,  and  took  it  for  the  beste. 

But  natheles  the  wending  of  Criseyde, 
For  al  this  world,  may  nought  out  of  his  minde; 
For  which  ful  ofte  he  pitously  hir  preyde 
That  of  hir  heste  he  mighte  hir  trewe  finde. 
And  seyde  hir,  "  Certes,  if  ye  be  unkinde, 
And  but  ye  come  at  day  set  in-to  Troye, 
Ne  shal  I  nevere  have  hele,  honour,  ne  loye. 

"For  al-so  sooth  as  sonne  up-rist  on  morwe, 
And  God!  so  wisly  thou  me,  woful  wrecche, 
To  reste  bringe  out  of  this  cruel  sorwe, 
I  wol  my-selven  slee  if  that  ye  drecche. 
But  of  my  deeth  though  litel  be  to  recche, 
Yet,  er  that  ye  me  cause  so  to  smerte, 
Dwel  rather  heer,  myn  owene  swete  herte! 

"For  trewely,  myn  owene  lady  dere, 
.Tho  sleigh tes  yet  that  I  have  herd  yow  stere 
Ful  shaply  been  to  failen  alle  y-fere. 
For  thus  men  seyn,  '  That  oon  thenketh  the  bere, 
But  al  another  thenketh  his  ledere.' 
Your  sire  is  wys,  and  seyd  is,  out  of  drede, 
1  Men  may  the  wyse  at-renne,  and  not  at-rede.' 

*'It  is  ful  hard  to  halten  unespyed, 

Bifore  a  crepul,  for  he  can  the  craft. 

Your  fader  is  in  sleighte  as  Argus  yed; 

For  al  be  that  his  moeble  is  him  biraft, 

His  olde  sleighte  is  yet  so  with  him  laft 

Ye  shal  not  blende  him  for  your  woman  hede, 

Ne  feyne  a-right,  and  that  is  al  my  drede. 

Sk.,  IV,  1422-1428;  1436-1463 


iv,  953-987  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  217 

"I  noot  if  pees  shal  evere-mo  bityde; 
But  pees  or  no,  for  ernest  ne  for  game, 
I  woot  sin  Calkas  on  the  Grekes  syde 
Hath  ones  been  and  loste  so  foule  his  name, 
He  dar  no  more  come  heer  ayein  for  shame, 
For  which  that  wey  for  ought  I  can  espye 
To  trusten  on  nis  but  a  fantasye. 

"  Ye  shal  eek  seen  your  fader  shal  yow  glose 
To  been  a  wyf ;  and  as  he  can  wel  preche 
He  shal  som  Grek  so  preyse  and  wel  alose 
That  ravisshen  he  shal  yow  with  his  speche, 
Or  do  yow  doon  by  force  as  he  shal  teche. 
And  Troilus,  of  whom  ye  nil  han  routhe, 
Shal  causeles  so  sterven  in  his  trouthe! 

"And  over  al  this,  your  fader  shal  despyse 
Us  alle,  and  seyn  this  citee  nis  but  lorn; 
And  that  thassege  nevere  shal  aryse 
For-why  the  Grekes  han  it  alle  sworn 
Til  we  be  slayn  and  doun  our  walles  torn. 
And  thus  he  shal  you  with  his  wordes  fere 
That  ay  drede  I  that  ye  wol  bleve  there. 

"Ye  shul  eek  seen  so  many  a  lusty  knight 
A-mong  the  Grekes  ful  of  worthinesse, 
And  ech  of  hem  with  herte,  wit,  and  might, 
To  plesen  yow  don  al  his  besinesse, 
That  ye  shul  dullen  of  the  rudenesse 
Of  us  sely  Troians,  but-if  routhe 
Remorde  yow,  or  vertu  of  your  trouthe. 

"And  this  to  me  so  grevous  is  to  thinke 
That  fro  my  brest  it  wol  my  soule  rende. 
Ne  dredeles  in  me  ther  may  not  sinke 
A  good  opinoun  if  that  ye  wende, 
For-why  your  faderes  sleighte  wol  us  shende. 
And  if  ye  goon,  as  I  have  told  yow  yore, 
So  thenk  I  nam  but  deed,  with-oute  more. 

Sk.,  IV,  1464-1498 


218  CHAUCER  iv,  988-1022 

"  For  which  with  humble,  trewe,  and  pitous  herte 

A  thousand  tymes  mercy  I  yow  preye. 

So  reweth  on  myn  aspre  peynes  smerte, 

And  doth  somwhat  as  that  I  shal  yow  seye 

And  lat  us  stele  away  betwixe  us  tweye. 

And  thenk  that  folye  is,  whan  man  may  chese, 

For  accident  his  substaunce  ay  to  lese. 

"I  mene  this,  that  sin  we  mowe  er  day 
Wei  stele  away  and  been  to-gider  so, 
What  wit  were  it  to  putten  in  assay, 
In  cas  ye  sholden  to  your  fader  go, 
If  that  ye  mighte  come  ayein  or  no? 
Thus  mene  I,  that  it  were  a  gret  folye 
To  putte  that  sikernesse  in  lupartye. 

"And  vulgarly  to  speken  of  substaunce 
Of  tresour,  may  we  bothe  with  us  lede 
Y-nough  to  live  in  honour  and  plesaunce 
Til  in-to  tyme  that  we  shul  ben  dede. 
And  thus  we  may  eschewen  al  this  drede; 
For  everich  other  wey  ye  can  recorde, 
Myn  herte,  y-wis,  may  not  ther-with  acorde. 

"And  hardily,  ne  dredeth  no  poverte, 
For  I  have  kin  and  freendes  elles-where 
That,  though  we  comen  in  our  bare  sherte, 
Us  sholde  neither  lakke  gold  ne  gere 
But  been  honoured  whyl  we  dwelten  there. 
And  go  we  anoon,  for,  as  in  myn  entente, 
This  is  the  beste,  if  that  ye  wole  assente." 

Criseyde,  with  a  syk,  right  in  this  wyse 
Answerde,  "Y-wis,  my  dere  herte  trewe, 
We  may  wel  stele  away  as  ye  devyse, 
And  finde  swiche  unthrifty  weyes  newe, 
But  afterward  ful  sore  it  wol  us  rewe. 
And  helpe  me  God  so  at  my  moste  nede 
As  causeles  ye  suffren  al  this  drede! 

Sk.,  IV,  1499-1533 


iv,  1023-1057         TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  219 

"For  thilke  day  that  I  for  cherisshinge 
Or  drede  of  fader,  or  of  other  wight, 
Or  for  estat,  delyt,  or  for  weddinge 
Be  fals  to  yow,  my  Troilus,  my  knight, 
Saturnes  doughter,  luno,  thorugh  hir  might, 
As  wood  as  Athamante  do  me  dwelle 
Eternaly  in  Stix,  the  put  of  helle! 

"But  that  ye  speke  awey  thus  for  to  go 

And  leten  alle  your  freendes,  God  for-bede 

For  any  womman  that  ye  sholden  so, 

And  namely  sin  Troye  hath  now  swich  nede 

Of  help.  And  eek  of  o  thing  taketh  hede, 

If  this  were  wist,  my  lyf  laye  in  balaunce 

And  your  honour:  God  shilde  us  fro  mischaunce! 

"And  if  so  be  that  pees  her-after  take, 

As  alday  happeth,  after  anger,  game, 

Why,  Lord !  the  sorwe  and  wo  ye  wolden  make 

That  ye  ne  dorste  come  ayein  for  shame! 

And  er  that  ye  luparten  so  your  name, 

Beth  nought  to  hasty  in  this  hote  fare; 

For  hasty  man  ne  wanteth  nevere  care. 

"What  trowe  ye  the  peple  eek  al  aboute 
Wolde  of  it  seye?  It  is  ful  light  to  arede. 
They  wolden  seye,  and  swere  it,  out  of  doute, 
That  love  ne  droof  yow  nought  to  doon  this  dede, 
But  lust  voluptuous  and  coward  drede. 
Thus  were  al  lost,  y-wis,  myn  herte  dere, 
Your  honour,  which  that  now  shyneth  so  clere. 

"And  also  thenketh  on  myn  honestee, 

That  floureth  yet,  how  foule  I  sholde  it  shende, 

And  with  what  filthe  it  spotted  sholde  be, 

If  in  this  forme  I  sholde  with  yow  wende. 

Ne  though  I  livede  un-to  the  worldes  ende, 

My  name  sholde  I  nevere  ayeinward  winne. 

Thus  were  I  lost,  and  that  were,  routhe  and  sinne. 

Sk..  IV.  1534-1540;  1555-1582 


220  CHAUCER  iv,  1058-1092 

"And  trusteth  this,  that  certes,  herte  swete, 
Er  Phebus  suster,  Lucina  the  shene, 
The  Leoun  passe  out  of  this  Ariete, 
I  wol  ben  heer,  with-outen  any  wene. 
I  mene,  as  helpe  me  luno,  hevenes  quene, 
The  tenthe  day,  but-if  that  deeth  me  assayle, 
I  wol  yow  seen,  with-outen  any  fayle." 

"And  now,  so  this  be  sooth,"  quod  Troilus, 

"I  shal  wel  suffre  un-to  the  tenthe  day, 

Sin  that  I  see  that  nede  it  moot  be  thus. 

But  for  the  love  of  God,  if  it  be  may, 

So  lat  us  stele  prively  away! 

For  evere  in  oon,  as  for  to  live  in  reste, — 

Myn  herte  seyth  that  it  wol  been  the  beste." 

"O  mercy,  God,  what  lyf  is  this?"  quod  she; 
"Alias,  ye  slee  me  thus  for  verray  tene! 
I  see  wel  now  that  ye  mistrusten  me; 
For  by  your  wordes  it  is  wel  y-sene. 
Now  for  the  love  of  Cynthia,  the  shene, 
Mistrust  me  not  thus  causeles,  for  routhe, 
Sin  to  be  trewe  I  have  yow  plight  my  trouthe. 

"And  thenketh  wel  that  som  tyme  it  is  wit 
To  spend e  a  tyme  a  tyme  for  to  winne; 
Ne,  pardee,  lorn  am  I  nought  fro  yow  yit, 
Though  that  we  been  a  day  or  two  a-twinne. 
Dryf  out  the  fantasyes  yow  with-inne, 
And  trusteth  me,  and  leveth  eek  your  sorwe, 
Or  heer  my  trouthe,  I  wol  not  live  til  morwe. 

"For  if  ye  wiste  how  sore  it  doth  me  smerte, 

Ye  wolde  cesse  of  this;  for  God,  thou  wost 

The  pure  spirit  wepeth  in  myn  herte 

To  see  yow  wepen  that  I  love  most, 

And  that  I  moot  gon  to  the  Grekes  ost. 

Ye,  nere  it  that  I  wiste  remedye 

To  come  ayein,  right  heer  I  wolde  dye! 

Sk.,IV;  1590-1624 


iv,  1093-1127         TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  221 

"And  over  al  this,  I  pray  yow,"  quod  she  tho, 
"Myn  owene  hertes  soothfast  suffisaunce, 
Sin  I  am  thyn  al  hool,  with-outen  mo, 
That  whyl  that  I  am  absent,  no  plesaunce 
Of  othere  do  me  fro  your  remembraunce. 
For  I  am  evere  a-gast,  for-why  men  rede 
That  'Love  is  thing  ay  ful  of  bisy  drede. '  " 

To  this  answerde  Troilus  and  seyde, 

"Now  God,  to  whom  ther  nis  no  cause  y-wrye, 

Me  glade,  as  wis  I  nevere  un-to  Criseyde, 

Sin  thilke  day  I  saw  hir  first  with  ye, 

Was  fals  ne  nevere  shal  til  that  I  dye. 

At  shorte  wordes,  wel  ye  may  me  leve: 

I  can  no  more,  it  shal  be  founde  at  preve." 

"Graunt  mercy,  goode  myn,  y-wis,"  quod  she, 
"And  blisful  Venus  lat  me  nevere  sterve 
Er  I  may  stonde  of  plesaunce  in  degree 
To  quyte  him  wel  that  so  wel  can  deserve. 
And  whyl  that  God  my  wit  wol  me  conserve, 
I  shal  so  doon,  so  trewe  I  have  yow  founde, 
That  ay  honour  to  me-ward  shal  rebounde. 

"  For  trusteth  wel  that  your  estat  royal 

Ne  veyn  delyt,  nor  only  worthinesse 

Of  yow  in  werre,  or  torney  marcial, 

Ne  pompe,  array,  nobleye,  or  eek  richesse, 

Ne  made  me  to  rewe  on  your  distresse; 

But  moral  vertu,  grounded  upon  trouthe, 

That  was  the  cause  I  first  had  on  yow  routhe! 

"And  this  may  lengthe  of  yeres  not  for-do, 

Ne  remuable  Fortune  deface. 

But  luppiter,  that  of  his  might  may  do 

The  sorwful  to  be  glad,  so  yeve  us  grace 

Er  nightes  ten  to  meten  in  this  place, 

So  that  it  may  your  herte  and  myn  suffyse. 

And  fareth  now  wel,  for  tyme  is  that  ye  ryse." 

Sk.,  IV,  1639-1645;  1653-1673;  1681-1687 


222  CHAUCER  iv,  ms-ini.  v,  I-H 

And  after  that  they  longe  y-pleyned  hadde, 

And  ofte  y-kist  and  streit  in  armes  folde, 

The  day  gan  ryse,  and  Troilus  him  cladde, 

And  rewfulliche  his  lady  gan  biholde 

As  he  that  felte  dethes  cares  colde. 

And  to  hir  grace  he  gan  him  recomaunde: 

Wher  him  was  wo,  this  holde  I  no  demaunde. 

For  mannes  heed  imaginen  ne  can, 

Ne  entendement  considere,  ne  tonge  telle, 

The  cruel  peynes  of  this  sorwful  man, 

That  passen  every  torment  doun  in  helle. 

For  whan  he  saugh  that  she  ne  mighte  dwelle, 

Which  that  his  soule  out  of  his  herte  rente, 

With-outen  more,  out  of  the  chaumbre  he  wente. 

Explicit  Liber  Quartus. 


BOOK  V 

Incipit  Liber  Quintus 

Aprochen  gan  the  fatal  destinee 

That  loves  hath  in  disposicioun, 

And  to  yow,  angry  Parcas,  sustren  three, 

Committeth  to  don  execucioun; 

For  which  Criseyde  moste  out  of  the  toun, 

And  Troilus  shal  dwelle  forth  in  pyne 

Til  Lachesis  his  threed  no  lenger  twyne. — 

Ful  redy  was  at  pryme  Dyomede, 
Criseyde  un-to  the  Grekes  ost  to  lede, 
For  sorwe  of  which  she  felte  hir  herte  blede 
As  she  that  niste  what  was  best  to  rede. 
And  trewely,  as  men  in  bokes  rede, 
Men  wiste  nevere  womman  han  the  care 
Ne  was  so  looth  out  of  a  toun  to  fare. 

Sk.,  IV,  1688-1701;  V,  1-7;  15-21 


v,  15-49  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  223 

This  Troilus,  with-outen  reed  or  lore, 

As  man  that  hath  his  loyes  eek  forlore, 

Was  wayting  on  his  lady  evere-more 

As  she  that  was  the  soothfast  crop  and  more 

Of  al  his  lust  or  loyes  heer-tofore. 

But  Troilus,  now  farwel  al  thy  loye, 

For  shaltow  nevere  seen  hir  eft  in  Troye! 

Soth  is  that  whyl  he  bood  in  this  manere, 
He  gan  his  wo  ful  manly  for  to  hyde, 
That  wel  unnethe  it  seen  was  in  his  chere. 
But  at  the  yate  ther  she  sholde  oute  ryde 
With  certeyn  folk,  he  hoved  hir  tabyde 
So  wo  bigoon,  al  wolde  he  nought  him  pleyne, 
That  on  his  hors  unnethe  he  sat  for  peyne. 

For  ire  he  quook,  so  gan  his  herte  gnawe, 
Whan  Diomede  on  horse  gan  him  dresse, 
And  seyde  un-to  him-self  this  ilke  sawe, 
"Alias,"  quod  he,  "thus  foul  wrecchednesse 
Why  suffre  ich  it,  why  nil  ich  it  redresse? 
Were  it  not  bet  at  ones  for  to  dye 
Than  evere-more  in  langour  thus  to  drye? 

"Why  nil  I  make  at  ones  riche  and  pore 
To  have  y-nough  to  done  er  that  she  go? 
Why  nil  I  bringe  al  Troye  upon  a  rore? 
Why  nil  I  sleen  this  Diomede  also? 
Why  nil  I  rather  with  a  man  or  two 
Stele  hir  a-way?  Why  wol  I  this  endure? 
Why  nil  I  helpen  to  myn  owene  cure?" 

But  why  he  nolde  doon  so  fel  a  dede, 

That  shal  I  seyn,  and  why  him  liste  it  spare: 

He  had  in  herte  alwey  a  maner  drede 

Lest  that  Criseyde  in  rumour  of  this  fare 

Sholde  han  ben  slayn;  lo,  this  was  al  his  care. 

And  elles,  certeyn,  as  I  seyde  yore, 

He  had  it  doon,  with-outen  wordes  more. 

Sk.,  V,  22-56 


224  CHAUCER  v,  so-84 

Criseyde,  whan  she  redy  was  to  ryde, 

Ful  sorwfully  she  sighte,  and  seyde,  "Alias!" 

But  forth  she  moot  for  ought  that  may  bityde, 

And  forth  she  rit  ful  sorwfully  a  pas. 

Ther  nis  non  other  remedie  in  this  cas. 

What  wonder  is  though  that  hir  sore  smerte, 

Whan  she  forgoth  hir  owene  swete  herte? 

This  Troilus  in  wyse  of  curteisye, 

With  hauk  on  honde,  and  with  an  huge  route 

Of  knightes,  rood  and  did  hir  companye, 

Passing  al  the  valeye  fer  with-oute. 

And  ferther  wolde  han  riden,  out  of  doute, 

Ful  fayn,  and  wo  was  him  to  goon  so  sone, 

But  torne  he  moste,  and  it  was  eek  to  done. 

And  right  with  that  was  Antenor  y-come 
Out  of  the  Grekes  ost,  and  every  wight 
Was  of  it  glad,  and  seyde  he  was  wel-come. 
And  Troilus,  al  nere  his  herte  light, 
He  peyned  him  with  al  his  fulle  might 
Him  to  with-holde  of  weping  at  the  leste, 
And  Antenor  he  kiste,  and  made  feste. 

And  ther-with-al  he  moste  his  leve  take, 

And  caste  his  eye  upon  hir  pitously, 

And  neer  he  rood  his  cause  for  to  make, 

To  take  hir  by  the  hond  al  sob  rely. 

And  he  ful  sof te  and  sleighly  gan  hir  seye, 

"Now  hold  your  day,  and  dooth  me  not  to  deye!" 

With  that  his  courser  torned  he  a-boute 

With  face  pale,  and  un-to  Diomede 

No  word  he  spak,  ne  noon  of  al  his  route; 

Of  which  the  sone  of  Tydeus  took  hede, 

As  he  that  coude  more  than  the  crede 

In  swich  a  craft,  and  by  the  reyne  hir  hente. 

And  Troilus  to  Troye  homward  he  wente. 

Sk.,  V,  57-91 


v,  85-H9  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  225 

This  Diomede,  that  ladde  hir  by  the  brydel, 
Whan  that  he  saw  the  folk  of  Troye  aweye, 
Thoughte,  "  Al  my  labour  shal  not  been  on  ydel 
If  that  I  may,  for  somwhat  shal  I  seye. 
For  at  the  worste  it  may  yet  shorte  our  weye. 
I  have  herd  seyd  eek  tymes  twyes  twelve, 
'He  is  a  fool  that  wol  for-yete  him-selve. ' ' 

But  natheles  this  thoughte  he  wel  ynough, 
"That  certaynly  I  am  aboute  nought 
If  that  I  speke  of  love,  or  make  it  tough; 
For  douteles,  if  she  have  in  hir  thought 
Him  that  I  gesse,  he  may  not  been  y-brought 
So  sone  awey;  but  I  shal  finde  a  mene 
That  she  not  wite  as  yet  shal  what  I  mene." 

This  Diomede,  as  he  that  coude  his  good, 
Whan  this  was  doon  gan  fallen  forth  in  speche 
Of  this  and  that,  and  asked  why  she  stood 
In  swich  disese,  and  gan  hir  eek  biseche 
That  if  that  he  encrese  mighte  or  eche 
With  any  thing  hir  ese,  that  she  sholde 
Comaunde  it  him,  and  seyde  he  doon  it  wolde. 

For  trewely  he  swoor  hir  as  a  knight 

That  ther  nas  thing  with  which  he  might  hir  plese, 

That  he  nolde  doon  his  peyne  and  al  his  might 

To  doon  it  for  to  doon  hir  herte  an  ese. 

And  preyede  hir  she  wolde  hir  sorwe  apese, 

And  seyde,  "Y-wis,  we  Grekes  con  have  loye 

To  honouren  yow,  as  wel  as  folk  of  Troye." 

He  seyde  eek  thus,  "I  woot  yow  thinketh  straunge — 
No  wonder  is,  for  it  is  to  yow  newe — 
Thaqueintaunce  of  these  Troianes  to  chaunge 
For  folk  of  Grece  that  ye  nevere  knewe. 
But  wolde  nevere  God  but-if  as  trewe 
A  Greek  ye  shulde  among  us  alle  finde 
As  any  Troian  is,  and  eek  as  kinde. 

Sk.,  V,  92-126 


226  CHAUCER  v,  120-154 

"  And  by  the  cause  I  swoor  yow  right,  lo,  now, 
To  been  your  freend,  and  helply,  to  my  might, 
And  for  that  more  acqueintaunce  eek  of  yow 
Have  ich  had  than  another  straunger  wight, 
So  fro  this  forth  I  pray  yow,  day  and  night, 
Comaundeth  me,  how  sore  that  me  smerte, 
To  doon  al  that  may  lyke  un-to  your  herte; 

"  And  that  ye  me  wolde  as  your  brother  trete, 
And  taketh  not  my  frendship  in  despyt; 
And  though  your  sorwes  be  for  thinges  grete, 
Noot  I  not  why,  but  out  of  more  respyt 
Myn  herte  hath  for  to  amende  it  greet  delyt. 
And  if  I  may  your  harmes  not  redresse 
I  am  right  sory  for  your  hevinesse. 

"And  nere  it  that  we  been  so  neigh  the  tente 
Of  Calkas,  which  that  seen  us  bothe  may, 
I  wolde  of  this  yow  telle  al  myn  entente; 
But  this  enseled  til  another  day. 
Yeve  me  your  hcnd,  I  am  and  shal  ben  ay, 
God  helpe  me  so,  whyl  that  my  lyf  may  dure, 
Your  owene  aboven  every  creature. 

"Thus  seyde  I  nevere  er  now  to  womman  born; 
For,  God  myn  herte  as  wisly  glade  so, 
I  lovede  nevere  womman  heer-biforn 
As  paramours,  ne  nevere  shal  no  mo. 
And,  for  the  love  of  God,  beth  not  my  fo: 
Al  can  I  not  to  yow,  my  lady  dere, 
Compleyne  aright,  for  I  am  yet  to  lere. 

"And  wondreth  not,  myn  owene  lady  bright, 
Though  that  I  speke  of  love  to  you  thus  blyve; 
For  I  have  herd  or  this  of  many  a  wight 
Hath  loved  thing  he  nevere  saugh  his  lyve. 
Eek  I  am  not  of  power  for  to  stryve 
Ayens  the  God  of  Love,  but  him  obeye 
I  wol  alwey,  and  mercy  I  yow  preye. 

Sk.,  V,  127-140;  148-168 


v,  155-189  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  227 

"Ther  been  so  worthy  knightes  in  this  place, 

And  ye  so  fair,  that  everich  of  hem  alle 

Wol  peynen  him  to  stonden  in  your  grace. 

But  mighte  me  so  fair  a  grace  falle 

That  ye  me  for  your  servaunt  wolde  calle, 

So  lowly  ne  so  trewely  you  serve 

Nil  noon  of  hem  as  I  shal  til  I  sterve." 

Criseyde  un-to  that  purpos  lyte  answerde, 
As  she  that  was  with  sorwe  oppressed  so 
That  in  effect  she  nought  his  tales  herde 
But  heer  and  ther,  now  heer  a  word  or  two. 
Hir  thoughte  hir  sorwful  herte  brast  a-two. 
For  whan  she  gan  hir  fader  fer  aspye, 
Wei  neigh  doun  of  hir  hors  she  gan  to  sye. 

But  natheles  she  thonked  Diomede 

Of  al  his  travaile,  and  his  goode  chere, 

And  that  him  liste  his  friendship  hir  to  bede; 

And  she  accepteth  it  in  good  manere, 

And  wolde  do  fayn  that  is  him  leef  and  dere; 

And  trusten  him  she  wolde,  and  wel  she  mighte, 

As  seyde  she,  and  from  hir  hors  she  alighte. 

Hir  fader  hath  hir  in  his  armes  nome, 
And  twenty  tyme  he  kiste  his  doughter  swete, 
And  seyde,  "O  dere  doughter  myn,  wel-come!" 
She  seyde  eek  she  was  fayn  with  him  to  mete, 
And  stood  forth  mewet,  milde,  and  mansuete. 
But  heer  I  leve  hir  with  hir  fader  dwelle, 
And  forth  I  wol  of  Troilus  yow  telle. 

To  Troie  is  come  this  woful  Troilus, 
In  sorwe  aboven  alle  sorwes  smerte, 
With  felon  look  and  face  dispitous. 
Tho  sodeinly  doun  fro  his  hors  he  sterte, 
And  thorugh  his  paleys  with  a  swollen  herte 
To  chambre  he  wente.  Of  no-thing  took  he  hede, 
Ne  noon  to  him  dar  speke  a  word  for  drede. 

Sk.,  V,  169-203 


228  CHAUCER  v,  190-221 

And  ther  his  sorwes  that  he  spared  hadde 
He  yaf  an  issu  large,  and  "Deeth!"  he  cryde; 
And  in  his  throwes  frenetyk  and  madde 
He  cursede  love,  Appollo,  and  eek  Cupyde, 
He  cursede  Ceres,  Bacus,  and  Cipryde, 
His  burthe,  him-self,  his  fate,  and  eek  nature, 
And  save  his  lady  every  creature. 

And  rewen  on  him-self  so  pitously 
That  wonder  was  to  here  his  fantasye. 
Another  tyme  he  sholde  mightily 
Conforte  him-self,  and  seyn  it  was  folye 
So  causeles  swich  drede  for  to  drye. 
And  eft  biginne  his  aspre  sorwes  newe 
That  every  man  mighte  on  his  sorwes  rewe. 

On  hevene  yet  the  sterres  were  sene, 
Al-though  ful  pale  y-waxen  was  the  mone, 
And  whyten  gan  the  orisonte  shene 
Al  estward  as  it  wonted  is  to  done, 
And  Phebus  with  his  rosy  carte  sone 
Gan  after  that  to  dresse  him  up  to  fare, 
Whan  Troilus  hath  sent  after  Pandare. 

This  Pandare,  that  of  al  the  day  biforn 
Ne  mighte  have  com  en  Troilus  to  see, 
Al-though  he  on  his  heed  it  had  y-sworn, 
For  with  the  King  Pryam  alday  was  he 
So  that  it  lay  not  in  his  libertee 
No-wher  to  gon,  but  on  the  morwe  he  wente 
To  Troilus  whan  that  he  for  him  sente. 

"My  Pandarus,"  quod  Troilus,  "the  sorwe 
Which  that  I  drye,  I  may  not  longe  endure. 
I  trowe  I  shal  not  liven  til  to-morwe, 
For  which  I  wolde  alwey,  on  aventure, 
To  thee  devysen  of  my  sepulture 
The  forme,  and  of  my  moeble  thou  dispone 
Right  as  thee  semeth  best  is  for  to  done. 

Sk.,  V,  204-210;  260-266;  274-287;  295  301 


v,  225-259  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  229 

"But  of  the  fyr  and  flaumbe  funeral 

In  which  my  body  brenne  shal  to  glede, 

And  of  the  feste  and  pleyes  palestral 

At  my  vigile,  I  praye  thee  take  good  hede 

That  al  be  wel;  and  off  re  Mars  my  stede, 

My  swerd,  myn  helm,  and,  leve  brother  dere, 

My  sheld  to  Pallas  yef,  that  shyneth  clere. 

"The  poudre  in  which  myn  herte  y-brend  shal  torne, 

That  preye  I  thee  thou  take  and  it  conserve 

In  a  vessel  that  men  clepe  an  urne 

Of  gold,  and  to  my  lady  that  I  serve, 

For  love  of  whom  thus  pitously  I  sterve, 

So  yef  it  hir,  and  do  me  this  plesaunce 

To  preye  hir  kepe  it  for  a  remembraunce." 

Pandare  answerde,  and  seyde,  "Troilus, 
My  dere  freend,  as  I  have  told  thee  yore 
That  it  is  folye  for  to  sorwen  thus 
And  causeles,  for  which  I  can  no-more. 
But  who-so  wol  not  trowen  reed  ne  lore, 
I  can  not  seen  in  him  no  remedye, 
But  lat  him  worthen  with  his  fantasye. 

"  But  Troilus,  I  pray  thee,  telle  me  now 

If  that  thou  trowe  er  this  that  any  wight 

Hath  loved  paramours  as  wel  as  thou? 

Ye,  God  wot,  and  fro  many  a  worthy  knight 

Hath  his  lady  goon  a  fourtenight 

And  he  not  yet  made  halvendel  the  fare. 

What  nede  is  thee  to  maken  al  this  care? 

"  For  which  with  al  myn  herte  I  thee  biseche 
Un-to  thy-self  that  al  this  thou  foryive; 
And  rys  up  now  with-oute  more  speche, 
And  lat  us  caste  how  forth  may  best  be  drive 
This  tyme,  and  eek  how  freshly  we  may  live 
Whan  that  she  cometh,  the  which  shal  be  right  sone: 
God  helpe  me  so,  the  beste  is  thus  to  done." 

Sk.,  V,  302-315;  323-336;  386-392 


230  CHAUCER  v,  250-294 

This  Troilus  answerde,  "O  brother  dere, 
This  knowen  folk  that  han  y-suffred  peyne, 
That  though  he  wepe  and  make  sorwful  chere, 
That  feleth  harm  and  smert  in  every  veyne, 
No  wonder  is;  and  though  I  evere  pleyne 
Or  alwey  wepe,  I  am  no-thing  to  blame, 
Sin  I  have  lost  the  cause  of  al  my  game. 

"  But  sin  of  fyne  force  I  moot  aryse, 

I  shal  aryse  as  sone  as  evere  I  may; 

And  God,  to  whom  myn  herte  I  sacrifyse, 

So  sende  us  hastely  the  ten  the  day! 

For  was  ther  nevere  fowl  so  fayn  of  May 

As  I  shal  been  whan  that  she  cometh  in  Troye 

That  cause  is  of  my  torment  and  my  loye. 

"But  whider  is  thy  reed,"  quod  Troilus, 
"That  we  may  pleye  us  best  in  al  this  toun?" 
"By  God,  my  conseil  is,"  quod  Pandarus, 
"To  ryde  and  pleye  us  with  King  Sarpedoun." 
So  longe  of  this  they  speken  up  and  doun, 
Til  Troilus  gan  at  the  laste  assente 
To  ryse,  and  forth  to  Sarpedoun  they  wente. 

Thus  Pandarus  with  alle  peyne  and  wo 
Made  him  to  dwelle,  and  at  the  woukes  ende 
Of  Sarpedoun  they  toke  hir  leve  tho, 
And  on  hir  wey  they  spedden  hem  to  wende. 
Quod  Troilus,  "Now  God  me  grace  sende 
That  I  may  finden  at  myn  hom-cominge 
Criseyde  comen!"  and  ther- with  gan  he  singe. 

"Ye,  hasel-wode!"  though te  this  Pandare, 
And  to  him-self  ful  softely  he  seyde, 
"God  woot,  refreyden  may  this  hote  fare 
Er  Calkas  sende  Troilus  Criseyde!" 
But  natheles  he  Taped  thus  and  seyde 
And  swor,  y-wis,  his  herte  him  wel  bihighte 
She  wolde  come  as  sone  as  evere  she  mighte. 

Sk.,  V,  414-434;  498-511 


v,  295-329  TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE  231 

Whan  they  un-to  the  paleys  were  y-comen 

Of  Troilus,  they  doun  of  hors  alighte, 

And  to  the  chambre  hir  wey  than  han  they  nomen. 

And  in-to  tyme  that  it  gan  to  nighte, 

They  spaken  of  Criseyde  the  brighte. 

And  after  this,  whan  that  hem  bothe  leste, 

They  spedde  hem  fro  the  soper  un-to  reste. 

On  morwe,  as  sone  as  day  bigan  to  clere, 
This  Troilus  gan  of  his  sleep  tabreyde, 
And  to  Pandare,  his  owene  brother  dere, 
"For  love  of  God,"  ful  pitously  he  seyde, 
"  As  go  we  seen  the  paleys  of  Criseyde; 
For  sin  we  yet  may  have  namore  feste, 
So  lat  us  seen  hir  paleys  at  the  leste." 

And  ther-with-al,  his  meyne  for  to  blende, 

A  cause  he  fond  in  toune  for  to  go, 

And  to  Criseydes  hous  they  gonnen  wende. 

But  Lord!  this  sely  Troilus  was  wo! 

Him  thoughte  his  sorweful  herte  braste  a- two; 

For  whan  he  saugh  hir  dores  sperred  alle, 

Wei  neigh  for  sorwe  a-doun  he  gan  to  falle. 

Therwith  whan  he  was  war  and  gan  biholde 
How  shet  was  every  windowe  of  the  place, 
As  frost,  him  thoughte,  his  herte  gan  to  colde; 
For  which  with  chaunged  deedlich  pale  face, 
With-outen  word,  he  forth  bigan  to  pace. 
And  as  God  wolde,  he  gan  so  faste  ryde 
That  no  wight  of  his  contenaunce  aspyde. 

Than  seyde  he  thus,  "O  paleys  desolat, 
O  hous  of  houses  whylom  best  y-hight, 
O  paleys  empty  and  disconsolat, 
O  thou  lanterne  of  which  queynt  is  the  light, 
O  paleys  whylom  day  that  now  art  night, 
Wei  oughtestow  to  falle  and  I  to  dye, 
Sin  she  is  went  that  wont  was  us  to  gye!" 

Sk.,  V,  512-546 


232  CHAUCER  v,  330-354 

Ther-with  he  caste  on  Pandarus  his  ye 
With  chaunged  face,  and  pitous  to  biholde. 
And  whan  he  mighte  his  tyme  aright  aspye, 
Ay  as  he  rood  to  Pandarus  he  tolde 
His  newe  sorwe,  and  eek  his  loyes  olde, 
So  pitously  and  with  so  dede  an  hewe, 
That  every  wight  mighte  on  his  sorwe  rewe. 

Fro  thennesforth  he  rydeth  up  and  doun, 
And  every  thing  com  him  to  remembraunce 
As  he  rood  forth  by  places  of  the  toun 
In  which  he  whylom  had  al  his  plesaunce. 
"Lo,  yond  saugh  I  myn  owene  lady  daunce, 
And  in  that  temple  with  hir  eyen  clere 
Me  caughte  first  my  righte  lady  dere. 

"And  yonder  have  I  herd  ful  lustily 
My  dere  herte  laughe,  and  yonder  pleye 
Saugh  I  hir  ones  eek  ful  blisfully. 
And  yonder  ones  to  me  gan  she  seye, 
'Now  goode  swete,  love  me  wel,  I  preye!' 
And  yond  so  goodly  gan  she  me  biholde 
That  to  the  deeth  myn  herte  is  to  hir  holde." 

Than  thoughte  he  thus,  "O  blisful  lord  Cupyde, 
Whan  I  the  proces  have  in  my  memorie 
How  thou  me  hast  werreyed  on  every  syde, 
Men  mighte  a  book  make  of  it,  lyk  a  storie. 
What  nede  is  thee  to  seke  on  me  victorie, 
Sin  I  am  thyn,  and  hoolly  at  thy  wille? 
What  loye  hastow  thyn  owene  folk  to  spille? 

"Wel  hastow,  lord,  y-wroke  on  me  thyn  ire, 
Thou  mighty  god,  and  dredful  for  to  greve! 
Now  mercy,  lord,  thou  wost  wel  I  desire 
Thy  grace  most,  of  alle  lustes  leve. 
And  live  and  deye  I  wol  in  thy  bileve, 
For  which  I  naxe  in  guerdon  but  a  bone, 
That  thou  Criseyde  ayein  me  sende  sone."    . 

Sk.,  V,  554-574;  582-595 


v,  365-309  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  233 

And  after  this  he  to  the  yates  wente 
Ther-as  Criseyde  out-rood  a  ful  good  paas, 
And  up  and  doun  ther  made  he  many  a  wente, 
And  to  him-self  ful  ofte  he  seyde  "  Alias! 
From  hennes  rood  my  blisse  and  my  solas! 
As  wolde  blisful  God  now  for  his  loye 
I  mighte  hir  seen  ayein  come  in-to  Troye." 

Upon  the  walles  faste  eek  wolde  he  walke, 
And  on  the  Grekes  ost  he  wolde  see, 
And  to  him-self  right  thus  he  wolde  talke, 
"Lo,  yonder  is  myn  owene  lady  free, 
Or  elles  yonder  ther  tho  tentes  be! 
And  thennes  comth  this  eyr  that  is  so  sote 
That  in  my  soule  I  fele  it  doth  me  bote." 

This  longe  tyme  he  dryveth  forth  right  thus, 
Til  fully  passed  was  the  nynthe  night; 
And  ay  bi-syde  him  was  this  Pandarus, 
That  bisily  did  al  his  fulle  might 
Him  to  comforte  and  make  his  herte  light, 
Yeving  him  hope  alwey,  the  tenthe  morwe 
That  she  shal  come  and  stinten  al  his  sorwe. 

Up-on  that  other  syde  eek  was  Criseyde 
With  wommen  fewe  among  the  Grekes  stronge, 
For  which  ful  ofte  a  day  "Alias!"  she  seyde, 
"That  I  was  born!  Wei  may  myn  herte  longe 
After  my  deeth;  for  now  live  I  to  longe! 
Alias!  and  I  ne  may  it  not  amende, 
For  now  is  wors  than  evere  yet  I  wende. 

"My  fader  nil  for  no-thing  do  me  grace 
To  goon  ayein,  for  nought  I  can  him  queme; 
And  if  so  be  that  I  my  terme  passe, 
My  Troilus  shal  in  his  herte  deme 
That  I  am  fals,  and  so  it  may  wel  seme. 
Thus  shal  I  have  unthank  on  every  syde. 
That  I  was  born,  so  welawey  the  tyde! 

Sk.,  V,  603-609;  666-672;  680-700 


234  CHAUCER  v,4oo-434 

"  And  if  that  I  me  putte  in  lupartye 
To  stele  awey  by  night,  and  it  bifalle 
That  I  be  caught,  I  shal  be  holde  a  spye; 
Or  elles, — lo,  this  drede  I  most  of  alle, — 
If  in  the  hondes  of  som  wrecche  I  falle, 
I  am  but  lost,  al  be  myn  herte  trewe. 
Now  mighty  God,  thou  on  my  sorwe  rewe!" 

Ful  pale  y-waxen  was  hir  brighte  face, 

Hir  limes  lene,  as  she  that  al  the  day 

Stood  whan  she  dorste  and  loked  on  the  place 

Ther  she  was  born  and  ther  she  dwelte  had  ay. 

And  al  the  night  weping,  alias!  she  lay. 

And  thus  despeired,  out  of  alle  cure, 

She  ladde  hir  lyf,  this  woful  creature. 

Ful  ofte  a  day  she  sighte  eek  for  destresse, 
And  in  hir-self  she  wente  ay  portrayinge 
Of  Troilus  the  grete  worthinesse, 
And  alle  his  goodly  wordes  recordinge 
Sin  first  that  day  hir  love  bigan  to  springe. 
And  thus  she  sette  hir  woful  herte  a-fyre 
Thorugh  remembraunce  of  that  she  gan  desyre. 

Ful  rewfully  she  loked  up-on  Troye, 

Biheld  the  toures  heighe  and  eek  the  halles. 

" Alias!"  quod  she,  "the  plesaunce  and  the  loye, 

The  which  that  now  al  torned  in-to  galle  is, 

Have  I  had  ofte  with-inne  yonder  walles! 

O  Troilus,  what  dostow  now?  "  she  seyde. 

"Lord!  whether  yet  thou  thenke  up-on  Criseyde? 

"Alias!  I  ne  hadde  trowed  on  your  lore 
And  went  with  yow,  as  ye  me  radde  er  this! 
Than  hadde  I  now  not  syked  half  so  sore. 
Who  mighte  have  seyd  that  I  had  doon  a-mis 
To  stele  awey  with  swich  on  as  he  is? 
But  al  to  late  cometh  the  letuarie 
Whan  men  the  cors  un-to  the  grave  carie. 

Sk.,  V,  701-721;  729-742 


v,  435-469  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  235 

"But  natheles,  bityde  what  bityde, 

I  shal  to-morwe  at  night,  by  est  or  west, 

Out  of  this  ost  stele  on  som  maner  syde, 

And  go  with  Troilus  wher-as  him  lest. 

This  purpos  wol  I  holde,  and  this  is  best. 

No  fors  of  wikked  tonges  langlerye, 

For  evere  on  love  han  wrecches  had  envye. 

"For  which,  with-outen  any  wordes  mo, 

To  Troye  I  wol,  as  for  conclusioun." 

But  God  it  wot,  er  fully  monthes  two, 

She  was  ful  fer  fro  that  entencioun. 

For  bothe  Troilus  and  Troye  toun 

Shal  knotteles  through-oute  hir  herte  slyde; 

For  she  wol  take  a  purpos  for  tabyde. 

This  Diomede,  of  whom  yow  telle  I  gan, 
Goth  now  with-in  him-self  ay  arguinge 
With  al  the  sleighte  and  al  that  evere  he  can 
How  he  may  best  with  shortest  taryinge 
In-to  his  net  Criseydes  herte  bringe. 
To  this  entente  he  coude  nevere  fyne; 
To  fisshen  hir  he  leyde  out  hook  and  lyne. 

But  natheles  wel  in  his  herte  he  thoughte 

That  she  nas  nat  with-oute  a  love  in  Troye. 

For  nevere  sithen  he  hir  thennes  broughte 

Ne  coude  he  seen  her  laughe  or  make  loye. 

He  niste  how  best  hir  herte  for  tacoye. 

"But  for  to  assay e,"  he  seyde,  "it  nought  ne  greveth; 

For  he  that  nought  assay eth  nought  nacheveth." 

Yet  seide  he  to  him-self  upon  a  night, 
"Now  am  I  not  a  fool,  that  woot  wel  how 
Hir  wo  for  love  is  of  another  wight, 
And  heer-up-on  to  goon  assaye  hir  now? 
I  may  wel  wite,  it  nil  not  been  my  prow. 
For  wyse  folk  in  bokes  it  expresse, 
'Men  shal  not  wowe  a  wight  in  hevinesse.' 

Sk.,  V,  75O-756;  764-791 


236  CHAUCER  v,  470-504 

"But  who-so  mighte  winnen  swich  a  flour 
From  him  for  whom  she  morneth  night  and  day, 
He  mighte  seyn  he  were  a  conquerour." 
And  right  anoon,  as  he  that  bold  was  ay, 
Thoughte  in  his  herte,  "Happe  how  happe  may, 
Al  sholde  I  deye,  I  wol  hir  herte  seche. 
I  shal  no  more  lesen  but  my  speche." 

This  Diomede,  as  bokes  us  declare, 
Was  in  his  nedes  prest  and  corageous; 
With  sterne  voys  and  mighty  limes  square, 
Hardy,  testif,  strong,  and  chevalrous 
Of  dedes,  lyk  his  fader  Tideus, 
And  som  men  seyn  he  was  of  tunge  large; 
And  heir  he  was  of  Calidoine  and  Arge. 

Criseyde  mene  was  of  hir  stature, 
Ther-to  of  shap,  of  face,  and  eek  of  chere, 
Ther  mighte  been  no  fairer  creature. 
And  of  te  tyme  this  was  hir  manere, 
To  gon  y-tressed  with  hir  heres  clere 
Doun  by  hir  coler  at  hir  bak  bihinde, 
Which  with  a  threed  of  gold  she  wolde  binde. 

And  save  hir  browes  loyneden  y-fere, 
Ther  nas  no  lak  in  ought  I  can  espyen. 
But  for  to  speken  of  hir  eyen  clere, 
Lo,  trewely,  they  writen  that  hir  syen 
That  Paradys  stood  formed  in  hir  yen. 
And  with  hir  riche  beautee  evere-more 
Strof  love  in  hir  ay  which  of  hem  was  more. 

She  sobre  was,  eek  simple  and  wys  with-al, 
The  best  y-norisshed  eek  that  mighte  be, 
And  goodly  of  hir  speche  in  general. 
Charitable,  estatlich,  lusty,  and  free; 
Ne  nevere-mo  ne  lakkede  hir  pi  tee; 
Tendre-herted,  slyding  of  corage; 
But  trewely  I  can  not  telle  hir  age. 

S*.,  V,  792-826 


v,  505-539  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  237 

But  for  to  tellen  forth  of  Diomede: — 

It  fil  that  after  on  the  tenthe  day 

Sin  that  Criseyde  out  of  the  citee  yede, 

This  Diomede,  as  fresshe  as  braunche  in  May, 

Com  to  the  tente  ther-as  Calkas  lay, 

And  feyned  him  with  Calkas  han  to  done; 

But  what  he  mente  I  shal  yow  telle  sone. 

Criseyde,  at  shorte  wordes  for  to  telle, 
Welcomed  him,  and  doun  by  hir  him  sette; 
And  he  was  ethe  y-nough  to  maken  dwelle. 
And  after  this  with-outen  longe  lette 
The  spyces  and  the  wyn  men  forth  hem  fette; 
And  forth  they  speke  of  this  and  that  y-fere, 
As  freendes  doon,  of  which  som  ye  shal  here. 

He  gan  first  fallen  of  the  werre  in  speche 

Bitwixe  hem  and  the  folk  of  Troye  toun; 

And  of  thassege  he  gan  hir  eek  byseche 

To  telle  him  what  was  hir  opinoun. 

Fro  that  demaunde  he  so  descendeth  doun 

To  asken  hir  if  that  hir  straunge  thoughte 

The  Grekes  gyse,  and  werkes  that  they  wroughte; 

And  why  hir  fader  tarieth  so  longe 
To  wedden  hir  un-to  som  worthy  wight. 
Criseyde,  that  was  in  hir  peynes  stronge 
For  love  of  Troilus,  hir  owene  knight, 
As  ferforth  as  she  conning  had  or  might, 
Answerde  him  tho;  but  as  of  his  entente, 
It  semed  not  she  wiste  what  he  mente. 

But  natheles,  this  ilke  Diomede 
Gan  in  him-self  assure,  and  thus  he  seyde: 
"If  ich  aright  have  taken  of  yow  hede, 
Me  thinketh  thus,  O  lady  myn,  Criseyde, 
That  sin  I  first  hond  on  your  brydel  leyde, 
Whan  ye  oute  come  of  Troye  by  the  morwe, 
Ne  coude  I  nevere  seen  yow  but  in  sorwe. 

Sk.,  V,  841-875 


238  CHAUCER  v,540-574 

"Can  I  not  seyn  what  may  the  cause  be 

But-if  for  love  of  som  Troyan  it  were, 

The  which  right  sore  wolde  athinken  me 

That  ye  for  any  wight  that  dwelleth  there 

Sholden  spille  a  quarter  of  a  tere, 

Or  pitously  your-selven  so  bigyle. 

For  dredelees,  it  is  nought  worth  the  whyle. 

"The  folk  of  Troye,  as  who  seyth,  alle  and  some 

In  preson  been,  as  ye  your-selven  see; 

For  thennes  shal  not  oon  on-lyve  come 

For  al  the  gold  bitwixen  sonne  and  see. 

For  trusteth  wel,  and  understondeth  me, 

Ther  shal  not  oon  to  mercy  goon  on-lyve, 

Al  were  he  lord  of  worldes  twyes  fyve! 

"  Swich  wreche  on  hem  for  f ecching  of  Eleyne 
Ther  shal  be  take,  er  that  we  hennes  wende, 
That  Manes,  which  that  goddes  ben  of  peyne, 
Shal  been  agast  that  Grekes  wol  hem  shende. 
And  men  shul  drede,  un-to  the  worldes  ende, 
From  hennes-forth  to  ravisshe  any  quene, 
So  cruel  shal  our  wreche  on  hem  be  sene. 

"And  but-if  Calkas  lede  us  with  ambages, 
That  is  to  seyn,  writh  double  wordes  slye, 
Swich  as  men  clepe  a  'word  with  two  visages,' 
Ye  shul  wel  knowen  that  I  nought  ne  lye, 
And  al  this  thing  right  seen  it  with  your  ye, 
And  that  anoon,  ye  nil  not  trowe  how  sone. 
Now  taketh  hede,  for  it  is  for  to  done. 

"  What  wene  ye  your  wyse  fader  wolde 
Han  yeven  Antenor  for  vow  anoon, 
If  he  ne  wiste  that  the  citee  sholde 
Destroyed  been?  Why  nay,  so  mote  I  goon! 
He  knew  ful  wel  ther  shal  not  scapen  oon 
That  Troyan  is;  and  for  the  grete  fere 
He  dorste  not  ye  dwelte  lenger  there. 

Sk.,  V.  876-910 


v,  575-609  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  239 

"What  wole  ye  more,  lufsom  lady  dere? 

Lat  Troye  and  Troyan  fro  your  herte  pace! 

Dryf  oute  that  bittre  hope  and  make  good  chere, 

And  clepe  ayein  the  beautee  of  your  face 

That  ye  with  salte  teres  so  deface. 

For  Troye  is  brought  in  swich  a  lupartye 

That,  it  to  save,  is  now  no  remedye. 

"And  thenketh  wel,  ye  shal  in  Grekes  finde 
A  more  parfit  love  er  it  be  night 
Than  any  Troyan  is,  and  more  kinde, 
And  bet  to  serven  yow  wol  doon  his  might. 
And  if  ye  vouche  sauf,  my  lady  bright, 
I  wol  ben  he  to  serven  yow  my-selve, 
Ye,  lever  than  be  lord  of  Greces  twelve!" 

And  with  that  word  he  gan  to  waxen  reed, 
And  in  his  speche  a  litel  wight  he  quook, 
And  caste  a-syde  a  litel  wight  his  heed, 
And  stinte  a  whyle;  and  afterward  awook, 
And  sobreliche  on  hir  he  threw  his  look, 
And  seyde,  "I  am,  al  be  it  yow  no  loye, 
As  gentil  man  as  any  wight  in  Troye. 

"For  if  my  fader  Tydeus,"  he  seyde, 
"  Y-lived  had,  I  hadde  been  er  this 
Of  Calidoine  and  Arge  a  king,  Criseyde! 
And  so  hope  I  that  I  shal  yet,  y-wis. 
But  he  was  slayn,  alias!  the  more  harm  is, 
Unhappily  at  Thebes  al  to  rathe, 
Polymites  and  many  a  man  to  scathe. 

"  But  herte  myn,  sin  that  I  am  your  man, 
And  been  the  ferste  of  whom  I  seche  grace 
To  serven  you  as  hertely  as  I  can 
And  evere  shal,  whyl  I  to  live  have  space, 
So,  er  that  I  departe  out  of  this  place, 
Ye  wol  me  graunte  that  I  may  to-morwe 
At  bettre  leyser  telle  yow  my  sorwe." 

Sk.,  V,  911-945 


240  CHAUCER 


V,  610-644 


What  sholde  I  telle  his  wordes  that  he  seyde? 
He  spak  y-now  for  o  day  at  the  meste. 
It  preveth  wel  he  spak  so  that  Criseyde 
Graunted,  on  the  morwe,  at  his  requeste 
For  to  speken  with  him  at  the  leste, 
So  that  he  nolde  speke  of  swich  matere; 
And  thus  to  him  she  seyde,  as  ye  may  here, 

As  she  that  had  hir  herte  on  Troilus 
So  faste  that  ther  may  it  noon  arace; 
And  straungely  she  spak,  and  seyde  thus: 
"O  Diomede,  I  love  that  ilke  place 
Ther  I  was  born;  and  loves,  for  his  grace, 
Delivere  it  sone  of  al  that  doth  it  care! 
God,  for  thy  might,  so  leve  it  wel  to  fare! 

"That  Grekes  wolde  hir  wrath  the  on  Troye  wreke, 

If  that  they  mighte,  I  knowe  it  wel,  y-wis; 

But  it  shal  not  bifallen  as  ye  speke. 

And  God  to-forn,  and  ferther  over  this, 

I  wot  my  fader  wys  and  redy  is; 

And  that  he  me  hath  bought,  as  ye  me  tolde, 

So  dere,  I  am  the  more  un-to  him  holde. 

"That  Grekes  been  of  heigh  condicioun, 
I  woot  eek  wel.  But  certein,  men  shal  finde 
As  worthy  folk  with-inne  Troye  toun, 
As  conning,  and  as  parfit,  and  as  kinde, 
As  been  bitwixen  Orcades  and  Inde. 
And  that  ye  coude  wel  your  lady  serve, 
I  trowe  eek  wel,  hir  thank  for  to  deserve. 

"But  as  to  speke  of  love,  y-wis,"  she  seyde, 

"I  had  a  lord  to  whom  I  wedded  was, 

The  whos  myn  herte  al  was  til  that  he  deyde. 

And  other  love,  as  helpe  me  now  Pallas, 

Ther  in  myn  herte  nis,  ne  nevere  was. 

And  that  ye  been  of  noble  and  heigh  kinrede, 

I  have  wel  herd  it  tellen,  out  of  drede. 

Sk.,  V,  946-980 


v,  645-679  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  241 

"And  that  doth  me  to  han  so  gret  a  wonder, 
That  ye  wol  scornen  any  womman  so. 
Eek,  God  wot,  love  and  I  be  fer  a-sonder; 
I  am  disposed  bet,  so  mote  I  go, 
Un-to  my  deeth,  to  pleyne  and  maken  wo. 
What  I  shal  after  doon,  I  can  not  seye, 
But  trewely  as  yet  me  list  not  pleye. 

"  To-morwe  eek  wol  I  speke  with  yow  fayn, 
So  that  ye  touchen  nought  of  this  matere. 
And  whan  yow  list,  ye  may  come  heer  ayein. 
And  er  ye  gon,  thus  muche  I  seye  yow  here: 
As  helpe  me  Pallas  with  hir  heres  clere, 
If  that  I  sholde  of  any  Greek  han  routhe, 
It  sholde  be  your-selven,  by  my  trouthe! 

"I  sey  not  therfore  that  I  wol  yow  love, 
Ne  I  sey  not  nay,  but  in  conclusioun, 
I  mene  wel,  by  God  that  sit  above!" 
And  ther-with-al  she  caste  hir  even  doun, 
And  gan  to  syke,  and  seyde,  "O  Troye  toun, 
Yet  bidde  I  God,  in  quiete  and  in  reste 
I  may  yow  seen,  or  do  myn  herte  breste." 

But  in  effect,  and  shortly  for  to  seye, 

This  Diomede  al  freshly  newe  ayeyn 

Gan  pressen  on,  and  faste  hir  mercy  preye; 

And  after  this,  the  sothe  for  to  seyn, 

Hir  glove  he  took,  of  which  he  was  ful  fayn. 

And  fynally  whan  it  was  waxen  eve 

And  al  was  wel,  he  roos  and  took  his  leve. 

The  brighte  Venus  folwede  and  ay  taughte 
The  wey  ther  brode  Phebus  doun  alighte; 
And  Cynthea  hir  char-hors  over-raughte 
To  whirle  out  of  the  Lyon,  if  she  mighte; 
And  Signifer  his  candeles  shewed  brighte 
Whan  that  Criseyde  un-to  hir  bedde  wente 
In-with  hir  fadres  faire  brighte  tente. 

Sk..  V,  981-987;  995-1022 


242  CHAUCER  v.eso-ru 

Retorning  in  hir  soule  ay  up  and  doun 
The  wordes  of  this  sodein  Diomede, 
His  greet  estat,  and  peril  of  the  toun, 
And  that  she  was  allone  and  hadde  nede 
Of  freendes  help;  and  thus  bigan  to  brede 
The  cause  why,  the  sothe  for  to  telle, 
That  she  tok  fully  purpos  for  to  dwelle. 

The  morwe  com,  and  goostly  for  to  speke, 
This  Diomede  is  come  un-to  Criseyde, 
And  shortly,  lest  that  ye  my  tale  breke, 
So  wel  he  for  him-selve  spak  and  seyde, 
That  alle  hir  sykes  sore  adoun  he  leyde. 
And  fynally,  the  sothe  for  to  seyne, 
He  ref  te  hir  of  the  grete  of  al  hir  peyne. 

And  after  this,  the  storye  telleth  us 
That  she  him  yaf  the  faire  baye  stede, 
The  which  she  ones  wan  of  Troilus; 
And  eek  a  brooch  (and  that  was  litel  nede) 
That  Troilus  was,  she  yaf  this  Diomede. 
And  eek  the  bet  from  sorwe  him  to  releve, 
She  made  him  were  a  pencel  of  hir  sieve. 

I  finde  eek  in  the  stories  elles-where, 
Whan  through  the  body  hurt  was  Diomede 
Of  Troilus,  tho  weep  she  many  a  tere 
Whan  that  she  saugh  his  wyde  woundes  blede; 
And  that  she  took  to  kepen  him  good  hede, 
And  for  to  hele  him  of  his  sorwes  smerte. 
Men  seyn — I  not — that  she  yaf  him  hir  herte. 

But  trewely  the  storye  telleth  us 
Ther  made  nevere  womman  more  wo 
Than  she  whan  that  she  falsed  Troilus. 
She  seyde,  "Alias!  for  now  is  clene  a-go 
My  name  of  trouthe  in  love  for  evere-mo! 
For  I  have  falsed  oon  the  gentileste 
That  evere  was,  and  oon  the  worthieste! 

Sk.,  V,  1023-1057 


v,  715-749  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  243 

"Alias!  of  me  un-to  the  worldes  ende 

Shal  neither  been  y-writen  nor  y-songe 

No  good  word,  for  this^  bokes  wol  me  shende. 

O,  rolled  shal  I  been  on  many  a  tonge, 

Through-oute  the  world  my  belle  shal  be  ronge, 

And  wommen  most  wol  hate  me  of  alle! 

Alias,  that  swich  a  cas  me  sholde  falle! 

"They  wol  seyn,  in  as  muche  as  in  me  is, 
I  have  hem  don  dishonour,  weylawey! 
Al  be  I  not  the  firste  that  did  amis, 
What  helpeth  that  to  do  my  blame  awey? 
But  sin  I  see  ther  is  no  bettre  way. 
And  that  to  late  is  now  for  me  to  rewe, 
To  Diomede  algate  I  wol  be  trewe. 

"But  Troilus,  sin  I  no  bettre  may, 

And  sin  that  thus  departen  ye  and  I, 

Yet  preye  I  God  so  yeve  vow  right  good  day 

As  for  the  gentileste,  trewely, 

That  evere  I  say  to  serven  feithfully, 

And  best  can  ay  his  lady  honour  kepe:" 

And  with  that  word  she  braste  anon  to  wepe. 

But  trewely,  how  longe  it  was  bitwene 
That  she  for-sook  him  for  this  Diomede, 
Ther  is  non  auctor  telleth  it,  I  wene. 
Take  every  man  now  to  his  bokes  hede; 
He  shal  no  terme  finden,  out  of  drede. 
For  though  that  he  bigan  to  wowe  hir  sone, 
Er  he  hir  wan  yet  was  ther  more  to  done. 

Ne  me  ne  list  this  sely  womman  chyde 
Ferther  than  the  storye  wol  devyse. 
Hir  name,  alias!  is  publisshed  so  wyde 
That  for  hir  gilt  it  oughte  y-now  suffyse. 
And  if  I  mighte  excuse  hir  any  wyse, 
For  she  so  sory  was  for  hir  untrouthe, 
Y-wis,  I  wolde  excuse  hir  yet  for  routhe. 

Sk., V,  1058-1078;  1086-1099 


244  CHAUCER 


V,  750-784 


This  Troilus,  as  I  biforn  have  told, 

Thus  dryveth  forth  as  wel  as  he  hath  might. 

But  often  was  his  herte  hoot  and  cold, 

And  namely  that  ilke  nynthe  night 

Which  on  the  morwe  she  hadde  him  byhight 

To  come  ayein.  God  wot,  ful  litel  reste 

Had  he  that  night;  no- thing  to  slepe  him  leste. 

The  laurer-crouned  Phebus  with  his  hete 
Gan  in  his  cours  ay  upward  as  he  wente 
To  warmen  of  the  est  see  the  wawes  wete; 
And  Nisus  doughter  song  with  freshe  entente, 
Whan  Troilus  his  Pandare  after  sente, 
And  on  the  walles  of  the  toun  they  pleyde 
To  loke  if  they  can  seen  ought  of  Criseyde. 

Til  it  was  noon  they  stoden  for  to  see 
Who  that  ther  come;  and  every  maner  wight 
That  cam  fro  fer,  they  seyden  it  was  she 
Til  that  they  coude  knowen  him  a-right. 
Now  was  his  herte  dul,  now  was  it  light. 
And  thus  by-iaped  stonden  for  to  stare 
Aboute  nought,  this  Troilus  and  Pandare. 

To  Pandarus  this  Troilus  tho  seyde, 

"For  ought  I  wot,  bi-fore  noon  sikerly 

In-to  this  toun  ne  comth  nought  heer  Criseyde. 

She  hath  y-now  to  done,  hardily, 

To  winnen  from  hir  fader,  so  trowe  I. 

Hir  olde  fader  wol  yet  make  hir  dyne 

Er  that  she  go,  God  yeve  his  herte  pyne!" 

Pandare  answerde,  "It  may  wel  be,  certeyn, 
And  for-thy  lat  us  dyne,  I  thee  biseche, 
And  after  noon  than  mayst  thou  come  ayeyn." 
And  hoom  they  go,  with-oute  more  speche; 
And  comen  ayein,  but  longe  may  they  seche 
Er  that  they  finde  that  they  after  cape. 
Fortune  hem  bothe  thenketh  for  to  Tape. 

Sk.,  V,  1100-1134 


v,  785-819  TROILUS   AND   CRISEYDE  245 

Quod  Troilus,  "I  see  wel  now  that  she 

Is  taried  with  hir  olde  fader  so 

That  er  she  come  it  wol  neigh  even  be. 

Com  forth,  I  wol  un-to  the  yate  go. 

Thise  portours  been  unkonning  evere-mo; 

And  I  wol  doon  hem  holden  up  the  yate 

As  nought  ne  were,  al-though  she  come  late." 

The  day  goth  faste,  and  after  that  comth  eve, 
And  yet  com  nought  to  Troilus  Criseyde. 
He  loketh  forth  by  hegge,  by  tree,  by  greve, 
And  fer  his  heed  over  the  wal  he  leyde. 
And  at  the  laste  he  torned  him  and  seyde, 
"By  God,  I  woot  hir  mening  now,  Pandare! 
Almost,  y-wis,  al  newe  was  my  care. 

"Now  douteles,  this  lady  can  hir  good; 

I  woot  she  meneth  ryden  prively. 

I  comende  hir  wysdom,  by  myn  hood! 

She  wol  not  maken  peple  nycely 

Gaure  on  hir  whan  she  comth;  but  softely 

By  night  in-to  the  toun  she  thenketh  ryde. 

And,  dere  brother,  thenk  not  longe  to  abyde. 

"We  han  nought  elles  for  to  don,  y-wis. 

And  Pandarus,  now  woltow  trowen  me? 

Have  heer  thy  trouthe,  I  see  hir!  Yond  she  is! 

Heve  up  thyn  eyen,  man!  Maystow  not  see?" 

Pandare  answerde,  "Nay,  so  mote  I  thee! 

Al  wrong,  by  God!  What  seystow,  man,  wher  arte? 

That  I  see  yond  nis  but  a  fare-carte." 

The  wardein  of  the  yates  gan  to  calle 

The  folk  which  that  with-oute  the  yates  were, 

And  bad  hem  dryven  in  hir  bestes  alle, 

Or  al  the  night  they  moste  blyven  there. 

And  fer  with-in  the  night,  with  many  a  tere 

This  Troilus  gan  hoomward  for  to  ryde; 

For  wel  he  seeth  it  helpeth  nought  tabyde. 

Sk.,  V,  1135-1162;  1177-1183 


246  CHAUCER  v,  820-354 

But  natheles,  he  gladded  him  in  this: 
He  thoughte  he  misacounted  had  his  day. 
And  seyde,  "I  understonde  have  al  a-mis; 
For  thilke  night  I  last  Criseyde  say, 
She  seyde,  '  I  shal  ben  heer,  if  that  I  may, 
Er  that  the  mone,  O  dere  herte  swete, 
The  Lyon  passe,  out  of  this  Ariete;' 

"For  which  she  may  yet  holde  al  hir  biheste." 
And  on  the  morwe  un-to  the  yate  he  wente, 
And  up  and  down,  by  west  and  eek  by  este, 
Up-on  the  walles  made  he  many  a  wente. 
But  al  for  nought;  his  hope  alwey  him  blente, 
For  which  at  night,  in  sorwe  and  sykes  sore, 
He  wente  him  hoom,  with-outen  any  more. 

The  thridde,  ferthe,  fifte,  sixte  day 
After  tho  dayes  ten,  of  which  I  tolde, 
Bitwixen  hope  and  drede  his  herte  lay, 
Yet  som-what  trusting  on  hir  hestes  olde. 
But  whan  he  saugh  she  nolde  hir  terme  holde, 
He  can  now  seen  non  other  remedye 
But  for  to  shape  him  sone  for  to  dye. 

Ther-with  the  wikked  spirit,  God  us  blesse, 
Which  that  men  clepeth  the  wode  lalousye, 
Gan  in  him  crepe  in  al  this  hevinesse; 
For  which,  by-cause  he  wolde  sone  dye, 
He  ne  eet  ne  dronk,  for  his  malencolye, 
And  eek  from  every  companye  he  fledde. 
This  was  the  lyf  that  al  the  tyme  he  ledde. 

He  so  defet  was  that  no  maner  man 
Unnethe  mighte  him  knowe  ther  he  wente; 
So  was  he  lene,  and  ther-to  pale  and  wan 
And  feble  that  he  walketh  by  potente. 
And  with  his  ire  he  thus  him-selven  shente; 
And  who-so  axed  him  wher-of  him  smerte, 
He  seyde,  his  harm  was  al  aboute  his  herte. 

Sk.,V,  1184-1197;  1205-1225 


v.  *5s-889  TROILUS  AND    CRISEYDE  247 

Pryam  ful  ofte,  and  eek  his  moder  dere, 

His  bretheren  and  his  sustren  gonne  him  freyne 

Why  he  so  sorwful  was  in  al  his  chere, 

And  what  thing  was  the  cause  of  al  his  peyne. 

But  al  for  nought;  he  nolde  his  cause  pleyne, 

But  seyde  he  felte  a  grevous  maladye 

A-boute  his  herte  and  fayn  he  wolde  dye. 

So  on  a  day  he  leyde  him  doun  to  slepe, 
And  so  bifel  that  in  his  sleep  him  thoughte 
That  in  a  forest  faste  he  welk  to  wepe 
For  love  of  hir  that  him  these  peynes  wroughte. 
And  up  and  doun  as  he  the  forest  soughte, 
He  mette  he  saugh  a  boor  with  tuskes  grete 
That  sleep  ayein  the  brighte  sonnes  hete. 

And  by  this  boor,  faste  in  his  armes  folde, 
Lay  kissing  ay  his  lady  bright  Criseyde; 
For  sorwe  of  which,  whan  he  it  gan  biholde, 
And  for  despyt,  out  of  his  sleep  he  breyde, 
And  loude  he  cryde  on  Pandarus,  and  seyde, 
"O  Pandarus,  now  knowe  I  crop  and  rote! 
I  nam  but  deed,  ther  nis  non  other  bote! 

*'My  lady  bright  Criseyde  hath  me  bitrayed, 
In  whom  I  trusted  most  of  any  wight; 
She  elles-wher  hath  now  hir  herte  apayed. 
The  blisful  goddes  through  hir  grete  might 
Han  in  my  dreem  y-shewed  it  ful  right. 
Thus  in  my  dreem  Criseydt  I  have  biholde:" — 
And  al  this  thing  to  Pandarus  he  tolde. 

Pandare  answerde  and  seyde,  "Alias  the  whyle 
That  I  was  born!  Have  I  not  seyd  er  this 
That  dremes  many  a  maner  man  bigyle? 
And  why?  for  folk  expounden  hem  a-mis. 
How  darstow  seyn  that  fals  thy  lady  is 
For  any  dreem,  right  for  thyn  owene  drede? 
Lat  be  this  thought,  thou  canst  no  dremes  rede. 

Sk.,  V,  1226-1253;  1275-1281 


248  CHAUCER  v,  890-924 

"Paraunter,  ther  thou  dremest  of  this  boor, 

It  may  so  be  that  it  may  signifye 

Hir  fader,  which  that  old  is  and  eek  hoor, 

Ayein  the  sonne  lyth  on  poynt  to  dye, 

And  she  for  sorwe  ginneth  wepe  and  crye, 

And  kisseth  him  ther  he  lyth  on  the  grounde: 

Thus  shuldestow  thy  dreem  a-right  expounde." 

"How  mighte  I  thanne  do?"  quod  Troilus, 
"To  knowe  of  this,  ye,  were  it  nevere  so  lyte?" 
"Now  seystow  wysly,"  quod  this  Pandarus; 
"My  reed  is  this,  sin  thou  canst  wel  endyte, 
That  hastely  a  lettre  thou  hir  wryte, 
Thorugh  which  thou  shalt  wel  bringen  it  aboute 
To  knowe  a  sooth  of  that  thou  art  in  doute. 

"And  see  now  why:  for  this  I  dar  wel  seyn, 

That  if  so  is  that  she  untrewe  be, 

I  can  not  trowe  that  she  wol  wryte  ayeyn. 

And  if  she  wryte,  thou  shalt  ful  sone  see 

As  whether  she  hath  any  libertee 

To  come  ayein,  or  elles  in  som  clause, 

If  she  be  let,  she  wol  assigne  a  cause." 

Acorded  been  to  this  conclusioun, 

And  that  anoon,  these  ilke  lordes  two; 

And  hastely  sit  Troilus  adoun 

And  rolleth  in  his  herte  to  and  fro 

How  he  may  best  discryven  hir  his  wo. 

And  to  Criseyde,  his  owene  lady  dere, 

He  wroot  right  thus,  and  seyde  as  ye  may  here: 

"Right  fresshe  flour,  whos  I  have  been  and  shal, 

With-outen  part  of  elles- wher  servyse, 

With  herte,  body,  lyf,  lust,  thought,  and  al: 

I,  woful  wight,  in  every  humble  wyse 

That  tonge  telle  or  herte  may  devyse, 

As  ofte  as  matere  occupyeth  place, 

Me  recomaunde  un-to  your  noble  grace. 

St.,  V,  1282-1302;  1310-1323 


v,  925-959  TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  249 

"Lyketh  it  yow  to  witen,  swete  herte, 
As  ye  wel  knowe  how  longe  tyme  agoon 
That  ye  me  laf te  in  aspre  peynes  smerte 
Whan  that  ye  wente,  of  which  yet  bote  noon 
Have  I  noon  had,  but  evere  wers  bigoon 
Fro  day  to  day  am  I,  and  so  mot  dwelle 
Whyl  it  yow  list,  of  wele  and  wo  my  welle! 

"  And  if  so  be  my  gilt  hath  deeth  deserved, 

Or  if  you  list  no  more  up-on  me  see, 

In  guerdon  yet  of  that  I  have  yow  served, 

Biseche  I  yow,  myn  hertes  lady  free, 

That  heer-upon  ye  wolden  wryte  me, 

For  love  of  God,  my  righte  lode-sterre, 

Ther  deeth  may  make  an  ende  of  al  my  werre; 

"If  other  cause  aught  doth  yow  for  to  dwelle, 

That  with  your  lettre  ye  me  recomforte. 

For  though  to  me  your  absence  is  an  helle, 

With  pacience  I  wol  my  wo  comporte. 

And  with  your  lettre  of  hope  I  wol  desporte. 

Now  wryteth,  swete,  and  lat  me  thus  not  pleyne: 

With  hope  or  deeth  delivereth  me  fro  peyne. 

"Y-wis,  myn  owene  dere  herte  trewe, 
I  woot  that  whan  ye  next  up-on  me  see, 
So  lost  have  I  myn  hele  and  eek  myn  hewe, 
Criseyde  shal  nought  conne  knowe  me! 
Y-wis,  myn  hertes  day,  my  lady  free, 
So  thursteth  ay  myn  herte  to  biholde 
Your  beautee  that  my  lyf  unnethe  I  holde. 

Le  vostre  T." 

This  lettre  forth  was  sent  un-to  Criseyde, 
Of  which  hir  answere  in  effect  was  this: 
Ful  pitously  she  wroot  ayein,  and  seyde 
That  al-so  sone  as  that  she  mighte,  y-wis, 
She  wolde  come,  and  mende  al  that  was  mis. 
And  fynally  she  wroot  and  seyde  him  thanne 
She  wolde  come,  ye,  but  she  niste  whanne. 

Sk.,  V, 1324-1330;  1387-1407,  1422-1428 


250  CHAUCER  v  950-994 

But  in  hir  lettre  made  she  swich  festes 

That  wonder  was,  and  swereth  she  loveth  him  best, 

Of  which  he  fond  but  botmelees  bihestes. 

But  Troilus,  thou  mayst  now  est  or  west 

Pype  in  an  ivy  leef,  if  that  thee  lest: 

Thus  gooth  the  world!     God  shilde  us  fro  mischaunce, 

And  every  wight  that  meneth  trouthe  avaunce! 

Fortune,  which  that  permutacioun 

Of  thinges  hath  as  it  is  hir  committed 

Through  purveyaunce  and  disposicioun 

Of  heighe  love,  as  regnes  shal  ben  flitted 

Fro  folk  in  folk,  or  whan  they  shal  ben  smitted, 

Gan  pulle  awey  the  fetheres  brighte  of  Troye 

Fro  day  to  day,  til  they  ben  bare  of  loye. 

Among  al  this,  the  fyn  of  the  parodie 
Of  Ector  gan  approchen  wonder  blyve; 
The  fate  wolde  his  soule  sholde  unbodie, 
And  shapen  had  a  mene  it  oute  to  dryve, 
Ayeins  which  fate  him  helpeth  not  to  stryve. 
But  on  a  day  to  lighten  gan  he  wende, 
At  which,  alias!  he  caughte  his  lyves  ende. 

For  whom,  as  olde  bokes  tellen  us, 

Was  mad  swich  wo  that  tonge  it  may  not  telle; 

And  namely  the  sorwe  of  Troilus, 

That  next  him  was  of  worthinesse  welle. 

And  in  this  wo  gan  Troilus  to  dwelle, 

That,  what  for  sorwe  and  love  and  for  unreste, 

Ful  of  te  a  day  he  bad  his  herte  breste. 

But  natheles,  though  he  gan  him  dispeyre, 
And  dradde  ay  that  his  lady  was  untrewe, 
Yet  ay  on  hir  his  herte  gan  repeyre. 
And  as  these  loveres  doon,  he  sough  te  ay  newe 
To  gete  ayein  Criseyde,  bright  of  hewe. 
And  in  his  herte  he  wente  hir  excusinge 
That  Calkas  causede  al  hir  taryinge. 

Sk.,  V,  1429-1435;  1541-1554;  1562-1575 


v,  995-1029  TRO1LUS  AND   CRISEYDE  251 

And  ofte  tyme  he  was  in  purpos  grete 
Him-selven  lyk  a  pilgrim  to  disgyse 
To  seen  hir;  but  he  may  not  contrefete 
To  been  unknowen  of  folk  that  weren  wyse, 
Ne  finde  excuse  aright  that  may  suffyse, 
If  he  among  the  Grekes  knowen  were; 
For  which  he  weep  ful  ofte  many  a  tere. 

To  hir  he  wroot  yet  ofte  tyme  al  newe 

Ful  pitously,  he  lefte  it  nought  for  slouthe, 

Biseching  hir  that  sin  that  he  was  trewe 

That  she  wolde  come  ayein  and  holde  hir  trouthe. 

For  which  Criseyde  up-on  a  day  for  routhe, 

I  take  it  so,  touching  al  this  matere, 

Wrot  him  ayein,  and  seyde  as  ye  may  here: 

"  Cupydes  sone,  ensample  of  goodlihede, 

0  swerd  of  knighthod,  sours  of  gentilesse! 
How  mighte  a  wight  in  torment  and  in  drede 
And  helelees,  yow  sende  as  yet  gladnesse? 

1  hertelees,  I  syk,  I  in  distresse, 

Sin  ye  with  me  nor  I  with  yow  may  dele, 
Yow  neither  sende  ich  herte  may,  nor  hele. 

"  Your  lettres  ful,  the  papir  al  y-pleynted, 
Conseyved  hath  myn  hertes  pie  tee; 
I  have  eek  seyn  with  teres  al  depeynted 
Your  lettre,  and  how  that  ye  requeren  me 
To  come  ayein,  which  yet  ne  may  not  be. 
But  why,  lest  that  this  lettre  founden  were, 
No  mencioun  ne  make  I  now  for  fere. 

"For  I  have  herd  wel  more  than  I  wende, 

Touching  us  two,  how  thinges  han  y-stonde, 

Which  I  shal  with  dissimuling  amende. 

And — beth  nought  wrooth — I  have  eek  understonde 

How  ye  ne  doon  but  holden  me  in  honde. 

But  now  no  fors,  I  can  not  in  yow  gesse 

But  alle  trouthe  and  alle  gentilesse. 

Sk.,  V,  1576-1603;  1611-161T 


252  CHAUCER 

"Comen  I  wol,  but  yet  in  swich  disioynte 
I  stonde  as  now,  that  what  yeer  or  what  day 
That  this  shal  be,  that  can  I  not  apoynte. 
But  in  effect,  I  prey  yow,  as  I  may, 
Of  your  good  word  and  of  your  f rendship  ay. 
For  trewely,  whyl  that  my  lyf  may^dure, 
As  for  a  freend  ye  may  in  me  assure. 

La  vostre  C." 

This  Troilus  this  lettre  thoughte  al  straunge 

Whan  he  it  saugh,  and  sorwefully  he  sighte. 

Him  thoughte  it  lyk  a  kalendes  of  chaunge; 

But  fynally  he  ful  ne  trowen  mighte 

That  she  ne  wolde  him  holden  that  she  highte. 

For  with  ful  yvel  wille  list  him  to  leve 

That  loveth  wel,  in  swich  cas,  though  him  greve. 

Stood  on  a  day  in  his  malencolye 

This  Troilus,  and  in  suspecioun 

Of  hir  for  whom  he  wende  for  to  dye. 

And  so  bifel  that  through-oute  Troye  toun, 

As  was  the  gyse,  y-bore  was  up  and  doun 

A  maner  cote-armure,  as  seyth  the  storie, 

Biforn  Deiphebe  in  signe  of  his  victorie, 

The  whiche  cote,  as  telleth  Lollius, 
Deiphebe  it  had  y-rent  from  Diomede 
The  same  day.  And  whan  this  Troilus 
It  saugh,  he  gan  to  taken  of  it  hede, 
Avysing  of  the  lengthe  and  of  the  brede, 
And  al  the  werk.  But  as  he  gan  biholde, 
Ful  sodeinly  his  herte  gan  to  colde, 

As  he  that  on  the  coler  fond  with-inne 
A  brooch,  that  he  Criseyde  yaf  that  morwe 
That  she  from  Troye  moste  nedes  twinne, 
In  remembraunce  of  him  and  of  his  sorwe; 
And  she  him  leyde  ayein  hir  feyth  to  borwe 
To  kepe  it  ay.  But  now  ful  wel  he  wiste 
His  lady  nas  no  lenger  on  to  triste. 

Sk.,  V,  1618-1624;  1632-1638;  1646-1666 


v,  1065-1099          TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  253 

He  gooth  him  hoom,  and  gan  ful  sone  sende 

For  Pandarus;  and  al  this  newe  chaunce 

And  of  this  brooch  he  tolde  him  word  and  ende, 

Compleyning  of  hir  hertes  variaunce, 

His  longe  love,  his  trouthe,  and  his  penaunce. 

And  after  deeth,  with-outen  wordes  more, 

Ful  faste  he  cryde  his  reste  him  to  restore. 

Than  spak  he  thus:  "O  lady  myn  Criseyde, 
Wher  is  your  feyth,  and  wher  is  your  biheste? 
Wher  is  your  love,  wher  is  your  trouthe?"  he  seydec 
"Of  Diomede  have  ye  now  al  this  feste! 
Alias!  I  wolde  have  trowed  at  the  leste 
That,  sin  ye  nolde  in  trouthe  to  me  stonde, 
That  ye  thus  nolde  han  holden  me  in  honde! 

"O  Pandare,  that  in  dremes  for  to  triste 
Me  blamed  hast,  and  wont  art  ofte  up-breyde, 
Now  maystow  see  thy-selve,  if  that  thee  liste, 
How  trewe  is  now  thy  nece,  bright  Criseyde! 
In  sondry  formes,  God  it  woot,"  he  seyde, 
"The  goddes  shewen  bothe  loye  and  tene 
In  sleep,  and  by  my  dreem  it  is  now  sene. 

"And  certaynly,  with-oute  more  speche, 

From  hennesforth,  as  ferforth  as  I  may, 

Myn  owene  deeth  in  armes  wol  I  seche. 

I  recche  not  how  sone  be  the  day! 

But  trewely,  Criseyde,  swete  may, 

Whom  I  have  ay  with  al  my  might  y-served, 

That  ye  thus  doon  I  have  it  nought  deserved." 

This  Pandarus  that  alle  these  thinges  herde, 
And  wiste  wel  he  seyde  a  sooth  of  this, 
He  nought  a  word  ayein  to  him  answerde; 
For  sory  of  his  f  rendes  sorwe  he  is, 
And  shamed,  for  his  nece  hath  doon  a-mis. 
And  stant  astoned  of  these  causes  tweye 
As  stille  as  stoon:  a  word  ne  coude  he  seye, 

,,  V   1667-1680;  1709-1729 


254  CHAUCER  v,  1100-1134 

But  at  the  laste  thus  he  spak,  and  seyde, 
"My  brother  dere,  I  may  thee  do  no-more. 
What  shulde  I  seyn?  I  hate,  y-wis,  Criseyde! 
And  God  wot,  I  wol  hate  hir  everemore! 
And  that  thou  me  bisoughtest  doon  of  yore, 
Having  un-to  myn  honour  ne  my  rcste 
Right  no  reward  I  did  al  that  thee  leste. 

"If  I  did  ought  that  mighte  lyken  thee, 
It  is  me  leef.  And  of  this  treson  now, 
God  woot  that  it  a  sorwe  is  un-to  me! 
And  dredelees,  for  hertes  ese  of  yow, 
Right  fayn  wolde  I  amende  it,  wiste  I  how. 
And  fro  this  world,  almighty  God  I  preye 
Delivere  hir  sone:  I  can  no-more  seye!" 

Gret  was  the  sorwe  and  pleynte  of  Troilus; 

But  forth  hir  cours  Fortune  ay  gan  to  holde. 

Criseyde  loveth  the  sone  of  Tydeus, 

And  Troilus  mot  wepe  in  cares  colde. 

Swich  is  this  world;  who-so  it  can  biholde, 

In  ech  estat  is  litel  hertes  reste. 

God  leve  us  for  to  take  it  for  the  beste! 

In  many  cruel  batayle,  out  of  drede, 

Of  Troilus,  this  ilke  worthy  knight, 

As  men  may  in  these  olde  bokes  rede, 

Was  sene  his  knighthod  and  his  grete  might. 

And  dredelees,  his  ire  day  and  night 

Ful  cruelly  the  Grekes  ay  aboughte; 

And  alwey  most  this  Diomede  he  soughte. 

And  ofte  tyme  I  finde  that  they  mette 
With  blody  strokes  and  with  wordes  grete, 
Assaying  how  hir  speres  weren  whette; 
And  God  it  woot,  with  many  a  cruel  hete 
Gan  Troilus  upon  his  helm  to-bete. . 
But  natheles,  Fortune  it  nought  ne  wolde, 
Of  otheres  hond  that  either  deyen  sholde. 

Sk.,  V,  1730-1764 


v,  H35-1 169          TROILUS  AND   CRISEYDE  255 

The  wraththe,  as  I  began  yow  for  to  seye, 
Of  Troilus,  the  Grekes  bough  ten  dere; 
For  thousandes  his  hondes  maden  deye, 
As  he  that  was  with-outen  any  pere, 
Save  Ector  in  his  tyme,  as  I  can  here. 
But  weylaway,  save  only  Goddes  wille, 
Dispitously  him  slough  the  fiers  Achille. 

And  whan  that  he  was  slayn  in  this  manere, 

His  lighte  goost  ful  blisfully  is  went 

Up  to  the  holownesse  of  the  seventh  spere, 

In  convers  leting  every  element; 

And  ther  he  saugh  with  ful  avysement 

The  erratik  sterres,  herkening  armonye 

With  sounes  fulle  of  hevenish  melodye. 

And  doun  from  thennes  faste  he  gan  avyse 
This  litel  spot  of  erthe,  that  with  the  see 
Embraced  is,  and  fully  gan  despyse 
This  wrecched  world,  and  held  al  vanitee 
To  respect  of  the  pleyn  felicitee 
That  is  in  hevene  above;  and  at  the  laste, 
Ther  he  was  slayn,  his  loking  doun  he  caste. 

And  in  him-self  he  lough  right  at  the  wo 
Of  hem  that  wepten  for  his  deeth  so  faste; 
And  dampned  al  our  werk  that  folweth  so 
The  blinde  lust,  the  which  that  may  not  laste, 
And  sholden  al  our  herte  on  hevene  caste, 
And  forth  he  wente,  shortly  for  to  telle, 
Ther  as  Mercuric  sorted  him  to  dwelle. — 

Swich  fyn  hath,  lo,  this  Troilus  for  love, 

Swich  fyn  hath  al  his  grete  worthinesse, 

Swich  fyn  hath  his  estat  real  above, 

Swich  fyn  his  lust,  swich  fyn  hath  his  noblesse, 

Swich  fyn  hath  false  worldes  brotelnesse. 

And  thus  bigan  his  loving  of  Criseyde, 

As  I  have  told,  and  in  this  wyse  he  deyde. 

Sk.,  V,  1800-1834 


256  CHAUCER 


V,  1170-1204 


O  yonge  fresshe  folkes,  he  or  she, 

In  which  that  love  up  groweth  with  your  age, 

Repeyreth  hoom  from  worldly  vanitee, 

And  of  your  herte  up-casteth  the  visage 

To  thilke  God  that  after  his  image 

Yow  made,  and  thinketh  al  nis  but  a  fayre 

This  world,  that  passeth  sone  as  floures  fayre. 

And  loveth  him,  the  which  that  right  for  love 
Upon  a  cros,  our  soules  for  to  beye, 
First  starf,  and  roos,  and  sit  in  hevene  a-bove; 
For  he  nil  falsen  no  wight,  dar  I  seye, 
That  wol  his  herte  al  hoolly  on  him  leye. 
And  sin  he  best  to  love  is,  and  most  meke, 
What  nedeth  feyned  loves  for  to  seke? 

Lo  heer,  of  Payens  corsed  olde  rytes, 
Lo  heer,  what  alle  hir  goddes  may  availle, 
Lo  heer,  these  wrecched  worldes  appetytes, 
Lo  heer,  the  fyn  and  guerdon  for  travaille 
Of  love,  Appollo,  of  Mars,  of  swich  rascaille! 
Lo  heer,  the  forme  of  olde  clerkes  speche 
In  poetrye,  if  ye  hir  bokes  seche! — 

x  O  moral  Gower,  this  book  I  directe 
To  thee,  and  to  the  philosophical  Strode, 
To  vouchen  sauf,  ther  nede  is,  to  corecte, 
Of  your  benignitees  and  zeles  gode. 
And  to  that  sothfast  Crist,  that  starf  on  rode, 
With  al  myn  herte  of  mercy  evere  I  preye; 
And  to  the  Lord  right  thus  I  speke  and  seye: 

Thou  oon,  and  two,  and  three,  eterne  on-lyve, 

That  regnest  ay  in  three  and  two  and  oon, 

Uncircumscript,  and  al  mayst  circumscryve, 

Us  from  visible  and  invisible  foon 

Defende.  And  to  thy  mercy,  everichoon, 

So  make  us,  lesus,  for  thy  grace  digne, 

For  love  of  mayde  and  moder  thyn  benigne!  Amen. 

Explicit  Liber  Troili  et  Criseydis. 

Sk.f  V,  1835-1869 


CHAUCER'S  WORDES  UNTO  ADAM,  HIS 
OWNE  SCRIVEYN 

Adam  scriveyn,  if  evere  it  thee  bifalle 

Boece  or  Troilus  to  wryten  newe, 

Under  thy  longe  lokkes  thou  most  have  the  scalle 

But  after  my  making  thou  wryte  trewe. 

So  of  te  a  daye  I  mot  thy  werk  renewe, 

Hit  to  correcte  and  eek  to  rubbe  and  scrape: 

And  al  is  through  thy  negligence  and  rape. 


BALADE  FROM  THE  LEGENDE  OF  GOOD 
WOMEN 

Hyd,  Absolon,  thy  gilte  tresses  clere; 
Ester,  leye  thou  thy  meknesse  al  a-doun; 
Hyd,  lonathas,  al  thy  frendly  manere; 
Penalopee,  and  Marcia  Catoun, 
Make  of  your  wyfhod  no  comparisoun; 
Hyde  ye  your  beautes,  Isoude  and  Eleyne, 
My  lady  cometh,  that  al  this  may  disteyne. 

Thy  faire  body,  lat  hit  nat  appere, 

Lavyne;  and  thou,  Lucresse  of  Rome  toun, 

And  Polixene,  that  boghten  love  so  dere, 

And  Cleopatre,  with  al  thy  passioun, 

Hyde  ye  your  trouthe  of  love  and  your  renoun; 

And  thou,  Tisbe,  that  hast  of  love  swich  peyne; 

My  lady  cometh,  that  al  this  may  disteyne. 

Herro,  Dido,  Laudomia,  alle  y-fere, 

And  Phyllis,  hanging  for  thy  Demophoun, 

And  Canace,  espyed  by  thy  chere, 

Ysiphile,  betraysed  with  lasoun, 

Maketh  of  your  trouthe  nayther  boost  ne  soun; 

Nor  Ypermistre  or  Adriane,  ye  tweyne; 

My  lady  cometh,  that  al  this  may  disteyne. 

Sk.,  L.  G.  W.,  Pro.  B,  249-269 


TROUTHE  „ 

Balade  de  bon  conseyl 

Flee  fro  the  prees,  and  dwell  with  sothfastnesse, 
Suffyce  unto  thy  good,  though  hit  be  smal; 
For  hord  hath  hate,  and  climbing  tikelnesse, 
Frees  hath  envye,  and  wele  blent  overal. 
Savour  no  more  than  thee  bihove  shal; 
Werk  wel  thy-self,  that  other  folk  canst  rede; 
And  trouthe  shal  delivere,  hit  is  no  drede. 

Tempeste  thee  noght  al  croked  to  redresse, 
In  trust  of  hir  that  turneth  as  a  bal : 
Gret  reste  stant  in  litel  besinesse; 
And  eek  be  war  to  sporne  ageyn  an  al; 
Stryve  noght  as  doth  the  crokke  with  the  wal. 
Daunte  thy-self,  that  dauntest  otheres  dede; 
And  trouthe  shal  delivere,  hit  is  no  drede. 

That  thee  is  sent,  receyve  in  buxumnesse, 

The  wrastling  for  this  world  axeth  a  fal. 

Her  nis  non  hoom,  her  nis  but  wildernesse: 

Forth,  pilgrim,  forth!    Forth,  beste,  out  of  thy  stall 

Know  thy  con  tree,  loke  up,  thank  God  of  al; 

Hold  the  hye  wey,  and  lat  thy  gost  thee  lede: 

And  trouthe  shal  delivere,  hit  is  no  drede. 

Envoy 

Therfore,  thou  Vache,  leve  thyn  old  wrecchednesse 

Unto  the  world;  leve  now  to  be  thral; 

Crye  him  mercy,  that  of  his  hy  goodnesse 

Made  thee  of  noght,  and  in  especial 

Draw  unto  him,  and  praye  in  general 

For  thee,  and  eek  for  other,  hevenlich  mede; 

And  trouthe  shal  delivere,  hit  is  no  drede. 


LENVOY  DE  CHAUCER  A  SCOGAN 

To-broken  been  the  statuts  hye  in  hevene 

That  creat  were  eternally  to  dure, 

Sith  that  I  see  the  brighte  goddes  sevene 

Mow  wepe  and  wayle,  and  passioun  endure, 

As  may  in  erthe  a  mortal  creature. 

Alias,  fro  whennes  may  this  thing  precede? 

Of  which  errour  I  deye  almost  for  drede. 

By  word  eterne  whylom  was  hit  shape 
That  fro  the  fif te  cercle  in  no  manere 
Ne  mighte  a  drope  of  teres  doun  escape. 
But  now  so  wepeth  Venus  in  hir  spere 
That  with  hir  teres  she  wol  drenche  us  here. 
Alias,  Scogan!  this  is  for  thyn  offence! 
Thou  causest  this  deluge  of  pestilence. 

Hast  thou  not  seyd  in  blaspheme  of  this  goddes, 
Through  pryde,  or  through  thy  grete  rakelnesse, 
Swich  thing  as  in  the  lawe  of  love  forbode  is? 
That,  for  thy  lady  saw  nat  thy  distresse, 
Therfore  thou  yave  hir  up  at  Michelmesse! 
Alias,  Scogan!  of  olde  folk  ne  yonge 
Was  nevere  erst  Scogan  blamed  for  his  tonge! 

Thou  drowe  in  scorn  Cupyde  eek  to  record 
Of  thilke  rebel  word  that  thou  hast  spoken, 
For  which  he  wol  no  lenger  be  thy  lord. 
And,  Scogan,  thogh  his  bowe  be  nat  broken, 
He  wol  nat  with  his  arwes  been  y-wroken 
On  thee,  ne  me,  ne  noon  of  our  figure; 
We  shul  of  him  have  neyther  hurt  ne  cure. 

Now  certes,  frend,  I  drede  of  thyn  unhappe, 
Lest  for  thy  gilt  the  wreche  of  Love  precede 
On  alle  hem  that  ben  hore  and  rounde  of  shape 
That  ben  so  lykly  folk  in  love  to  spede. 


LENVOY  DE  CHAUCER  A  SCOGAN   261 

Than  shul  we  for  our  labour  han  no  mede. 
But  wel  I  wot  thou  wilt  answere  and  seye: 
"Lo!  olde  Grisel  list  to  ryme  and  pleye!" 

Nay,  Scogan,  sey  not  so,  for  I  mexcuse, 
God  helpe  me  so!  in  no  rym,  doutelees, 
Ne  thinke  I  nevere  of  sleep  to  wake  my  muse, 
That  rusteth  in  my  shethe  stille  in  pees. 
Whyl  I  was  yong,  I  putte  hir  forth  in  prees, 
But  al  shal  passe  that  men  prose  or  ryme: 
Take  every  man  his  turn  as  for  his  tyme. 

Envoy 

Scogan,  that  knelest  at  the  stremes  heed 
Of  grace,  of  alle  honour  and  worthinesse, 
In  thende  of  which  streem  I  am  dul  as  deed, 
Forgete  in  solitarie  wildernesse: 
Yet  Scogan,  thenk  on  Tullius  kindenesse; 
Minne  thy  frend  ther  it  may  fructifye! 
Far-wel,  and  loke  thou  nevere  eft  Love  defye! 


LENVOY  DE  CHAUCER  A  BUKTON 

The  counseil  of  Chaucer  touching  Mariage,  which  was 
sent  to  Bukton. 

My  maister  Bukton,  whan  of  Crist  our  kinge 
Was  axed  what  is  trouthe  or  sothfastnesse, 
He  nat  a  word  answerde  to  that  axinge, 
As  who  saith,  "No  man  is  al  trewe,"  I  gesse. 
And  therfore,  thogh  I  highte  to  expresse 
The  sorwe  and  wo  that  is  in  mariage, 
I  dar  not  wryte  of  hit  no  wikkednesse 
Lest  I  my-self  falle  eft  in  swich  dotage. 

I  wol  nat  seyn  how  that  hit  is  the  cheyne 
Of  Sathanas,  on  which  he  gnaweth  evere, 
But  I  dar  seyn,  were  he  out  of  his  peyne, 
As  by  his  wille,  he  wolde  be  bounde  nevere. 
But  thilke  doted  fool  that  eft  hath  levere 
Y-cheyned  be  than  out  of  prison  crepe, 
God  lete  him  nevere  fro  his  wo  dissevere, 
Ne  no  man  him  bewayle  though  he  wepe. 

But  yit,  lest  thou  do  worse,  tak  a  wyf : 
Bet  is  to  wedde  than  brenne  in  worse  wyse. 
But  thou  shalt  have  sorwe  on  thy  flesh  thy  lyf, 
And  been  thy  wyves  thral,  as  seyn  these  wyse, 
And  if  that  holy  writ  may  nat  suffyse, 
Experience  shal  thee  teche,  so  may  happe, 
That  thee  were  lever  to  be  take  in  Fryse 
Than  eft  to  falle  of  wedding  in  the  trappe. 

Envoy 

This  litel  writ,  proverbes,  or  figure, 
I  sende  you,  tak  keep  of  hit,  I  rede. 
Unwys  is  he  that  can  no  wele  endure; 
If  thou  be  siker,  put  thee  nat  in  drede. 
The  Wyf  of  Bathe  I  pray  you  that  ye  rede 
Of  this  matere  that  we  have  on  honde. 
God  graunte  you  your  lyf  frely  to  lede 
In  fredom;  for  ful  hard  is  to  be  bonde. 


THE  COMPLEINTE  OF   CHAUCER  TO   HIS 
EMPTY  PURS 

To  you,  my  purs,  and  to  non  other  wight 
Compleyne  I,  for  ye  be  my  lady  dere! 
I  am  so  sory  now  that  ye  be  light; 
For  certes,  but  ye  make  me  hevy  chere, 
Me  were  as  leef  be  leyd  up-on  my  bere, 
For  which  un-to  you  mercy  thus  I  crye: 
Beth  hevy  ageyn,  or  elles  mot  I  dye! 

Now  voucheth  sauf  this  day  or  hit  be  night 
That  I  of  you  the  blisful  soun  may  here, 
Or  see  your  colour  lyk  the  sonne  bright 
That  of  yelownesse  hadde  nevere  pere. 
Ye  be  my  lyf ,  ye  be  myn  hertes  stere, 
Quene  of  comfort  and  of  good  companye: 
Beth  hevy  ageyn,  or  elles  mot  I  dye! 

Now  purs,  that  be  to  me  my  lyves  light, 

And  saveour,  as  doun  in  this  world  here, 

Out  of  this  toune  help  me  through  your  might, 

Sin  that  ye  wole  nat  been  my  tresorere; 

For  I  am  shave  as  nye  as  any  frere. 

But  yit  I  pray  un-to  your  curtesye: 

Beth  hevy  ageyn,  or  elles  mot  I  dye. 

Lenvoy  de  Chaucer 

O  conquerour  of  Brutes  Albioun! 
Which  that  by  lyne  and  free  eleccioun 
Ben  verray  king,  this  song  to  you  I  sende; 
And  ye,  that  mowen  al  our  harm  amende, 
Have  minde  up-on  my  supplicacioun! 


THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES 
THE  PROLOGE 

Here  biginneth  the  Book  of  the  Tales  of  Caunterbury 

Whan  that  Aprille  with  his  shoures  sote 

The  droghte  of  March  hath  perced  to  the  rote, 

And  bathed  every  veyne  in  swich  licour 

Of  which  vertu  engendred  is  the  flour; 

Whan  Zephirus  eek  with  his  swete  breeth 

Inspired  hath  in  every  holt  and  heeth 

The  tendre  croppes,  and  the  yonge  sonne 

Hath  in  the  Ram  his  halfe  cours  y-ronne, 

And  smale  fowles  maken  melodye 

That  slepen  al  the  night  with  open  ye 

(So  priketh  hem  nature  in  hir  corages) : 

Than  longen  folk  to  goon  on  pilgrimages, 

And  palmers  for  to  seken  straunge  strondes, 

To  feme  halwes  couthe  in  sondry  londes. 

And  specially,  from  every  shires  ende 

Of  Engelond,  to  Caunterbury  they  wende 

The  holy  blisful  martir  for  to  seke 

That  hem  hath  holpen  whan  that  they  were  seke. 

Bifel  that  in  that  seson  on  a  day 
In  Southwerk  at  the  Tabard  as  I  lay 
Redy  to  wenden  on  my  pilgrimage 
To  Caunterbury  with  ful  devout  corage, 
At  night  was  come  in-to  that  hostelrye 
Wei  nyne  and  twenty  in  a  companye 
Of  sondry  folk,  by  aventure  y-falle 
In  felawshipe,  and  pilgrims  were  they  alle 
That  toward  Caunterbury  wolden  ryde; 
The  chambres  and  the  stables  weren  wyde, 
And  wel  we  weren  esed  atte  beste. 
And  shortly,  whan  the  sonne  was  to  reste, 

Sk...  A,  1-30 


n-68  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  265 

So  had  I  spoken  with  hem  everichon 
That  I  was  of  hir  felawshipe  anon, 
And  made  forward  erly  for  to  ryse 
To  take  our  wey  ther  as  I  yow  devyse. 

But  natheles,  whyl  I  have  tyme  and  space, 
Er  that  I  ferther  in  this  tale  pace, 
Me  thinketh  it  acordaunt  to  resoun 
To  telle  yow  al  the  condicioun 
Of  ech  of  hem,  so  as  it  semed  me, 
And  which  they  weren  and  of  what  degree, 
And  eek  in  what  array  that  they  were  inne; 
And  at  a  knight  than  wol  I  first  biginne: 

A  KNIGHT  ther  was,  and  that  a  worthy 
That  fro  the  tyme  that  he  first  bigan 
To  ryden  oute,  he  loved  chivalrye, 
Trouthe  and  honour,  fredom  and  curteisye. 
Ful  worthy  was  he  in  his  lordes  werre, 
And  therto  had  he  riden — no  man  ferre — 
As  wel  in  Cristendom  as  hethenesse, 
And  evere  honoured  for  his  worthinesse. 

At  Alisaundre  he  was  whan  it  was  wonne. 
Ful  ofte  tyme  he  had  the  bord  bigonne 
Aboven  alle  naciouns  in  Pruce. 
In  Lettow  had  he  reysed  and  in  Ruce: 
No  Cristen  man  so  ofte  of  his  degree. 
In  Gernade  at  the  sege  eek  had  he  be 
Of  Algezir,  and  riden  in  Belmarye. 
At  Lyeys  was  he,  and  at  Satalye, 
Whan  they  were,  wonne;  and  in  the  Grete  See 
At  many  a  noble  armee  had  he  be. 
At  mortal  batailles  had  he  been  fiftene, 
And  foughten  for  our  feith  at  Tramissene 
In  listes  thryes,  and  ay  slayn  his  foo. 
This  ilke  worthy  knight  had  been  also 
Somtyme  with  the  lord  of  Palatye 
Ageyn  another  hethen  in  Turkye, 
And  everemore  he  had  a  sovereyn  prys. 
And  though  that  he  were,  worthy,  he  was  wys, 

Sk.,  A,  31-68 


266  CHAUCER  69-iw> 

And  of  his  port  as  meke  as  is  a  mayde. 
He  nevere  yet  no  vileinye  ne  sayde 
In  al  his  lyf  un-to  no  maner  wight. 
He  was  a  verray  parfit,  gentil  knight. 

But  for  to  tellen  yow  of  his  array, 
His  hors  were  gode,  but  he  was  nat  gay. 
Of  fustian  he  wered  a  gipoun 
Al  bismotered  with  his  habergeoun; 
For  he  was  late  y-come  from  his  viage, 
And  wente  for  to  doon  his  pilgrimage. 

With  him  ther  wras  his  sone,  a  young  SQUYER, 
A  lovyer  and  a  lusty  bacheler, 
With  lokkes  crulle  as  they  wrere  leyd  in  presse. 
Of  twenty  yeer  of  age  he  \vas,  I  gesse. 
Of  his  stature  he  was  of  evene  lengthe, 
And  wonderly  deliver,  and  of  greet  strengthe. 
And  he  had  ben  somtyme  in  chivachye 
In  Flaundres,  in  Artoys,  and  Picardye, 
And  born  him  wel  as  of  so  litel  space 
In  hope  to  stonden  in  his  lady  grace. 
Embrouded  was  he,  as  it  were  a  mede 
Al  ful  of  fresshe  floures  whyte  and  rede. 
Singing  he  was,  or  floyting,  al  the  day: 
He  was  as  freshe  as  is  the  month  of  May. 
Short  \vas  his  goune,  with  sieves  longe  and  wyde. 
Wel  coude  he  sitte  on  hors,  and  faire  ryde. 
He  coude  songes  make  and  wel  endyte, 
luste  and  eek  daunce,  and  wel  purtreye  and  wryte. 
So  hote  he  lovede  that  by  nightertale 
He  sleep  namore  than  dooth  a  nightingale. 
Curteys  he  was,  lowly,  and  servisable, 
And  carf  biforn  his  fader  at  the  table. 

A  YEMAN  had  he,  and  servaunts  namo 
At  that  tyme,  for  him  liste  ryde  so; 
And  he  was  clad  in  cote  and  hood  of  grene. 
A  sheef  of  pecok-arwes  brighte  and  kene 
Under  his  belt  he  bar  ful  thriftily 
(Wel  coude  he  dresse  his  takel  yemanly, 

Sk.,  A,  69-106 


107-144  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  267 

His  arwes  drouped  noght  with  f etheres  lowe) ; 
And  in  his  hand  he  bar  a  mighty  bowe. 
A  not-heed  had  he,  with  a  broun  visage. 
Of  wode-craft  wel  coude  he  al  the  usage. 
Upon  his  arm  he  bar  a  gay  bracer, 
And  by  his  syde  a  swerd  and  a  bokeler; 
And  on  that  other  syde  a  gay  daggere, 
Harneised  wel,  and  sharp  as  point  of  spere; 
A  Cristofre  on  his  brest  of  silver  shene. 
An  horn  he  bar,  the  bawdrik  was  of  grene; 
A  forster  was  he,  soothly,  as  I  gesse. 

Ther  was  also  a  Nonne,  a  PRIORESSE, 
That  of  hir  smyling  was  ful  simple  and  coy; 
Hir  gretteste  ooth  was  but  "By  Seinte  Loy!" 
And  she  was  cleped  Madame  Eglentyne. 
Ful  wel  she  song  the  service  divyne, 
Entuned  in  hir  nose  ful  semely; 
And  Frensh  she  spak  ful  faire  and  fetisly 
After  the  scole  of  Stratford  atte  Bowe 
(For  Frensh  of  Paris  was  to  hir  unknowe.) 
At  mete  wel  y- taught  was  she  with-alle: 
She  leet  no  morsel  from  hir  lippes  falle, 
Ne  wette  hir  fingres  in  hir  sauce  depe; 
Wel  coude  she  carie  a  morsel,  and  wel  kepe 
That  no  drope  ne  fille  up-on  hir  brest. 
In  curteisye  was  set  ful  muche  hir  lest. 
Hir  over  lippe  wyped  she  so  clene 
That  in  hir  coppe  ther  was  no  ferthing  sene 
Of  grece  whan  she  dronken  had  hir  draughte; 
Ful  semely  after  hir  mete  she  raughte. 
And  sikerly  she  was  of  greet  disport, 
And  ful  plesaunt,  and  amiable  of  port, 
And  peyned  hir  to  countrefete  chere 
Of  court,  and  been  estatlich  of  manere, 
And  to  ben  holden  digne  of  reverence. 
But  for  to  speken  of  hir  conscience, 
She  was  so  charitable  and  so  pitous 
She  wolde  wepe  if  that  she  sawe  a  mous 

Sk.,  A,  107-144 


268  CHAUCER  145-182 

Caught  in  a  trappe,  if  it  were  deed  or  bledde. 

Of  smale  houndes  had  she  that  she  fedde 

With  rested  flesh,  or  milk  and  wastel-breed. 

But  sore  weep  she  if  oon  of  hem  were  deed, 

Or  if  men  smoot  it  with  a  yerde  smerte: 

And  al  was  conscience  and  tendre  herte. 

Ful  semely  hir  wimpel  pinched  was; 

Hir  nose  tretys;  hir  eyen  greye  as  glas; 

Hir  mouth  ful  smal,  and  ther-to  softe  and  reed: 

But  sikerly  she  had  a  fair  forheed: 

It  was  almost  a  spanne  brood,  I  trowe; 

For  hardily  she  was  not  undergrowe. 

Ful  fetis  wras  hir  cloke,  as  I  was  war. 

Of  smal  coral  aboute  hir  arm  she  bar 

A  peire  of  bedes  gauded  al  with  grene; 

And  ther-on  heng  a  brooch  of  gold  ful  shene, 

On  which  ther  was  first  write  a  crowned  "A," 

And  after,  "Amor  mncit  omnia." 

Another  NONNE  with  hir  hadde  she 
That  was  hir  chapeleyn,  and  PREESTES  three. 

A  MONK  ther  was,  a  fair  for  the  maistrye, 
An  out-ryder,  that  loved  e  venerye; 
A  manly  man,  to  been  an  abbot  able. 
Ful  many  a  deyntee  hors  had  he  in  stable: 
And  whan  he  rood,  men  mighte  his  brydel  here 
Ginglen  in  a  whistling  wind  as  clere 
And  eek  as  loude  as  dooth  the  chapel-belle 
Ther  as  this  lord  was  keper  of  the  celle. 
The  reule  of  Seint  Maure  or  of  Seint  Beneit, 
By-cause  that  it  was  old  and  som-del  streit, 
This  ilke  monk  leet  olde  thinges  pace, 
And  held  after  the  newe  wrorld  the  space. 
He  yaf  nat  of  that  text  a  pulled  hen 
That  seith  that  hunters  been  nat  holy  men; 
Ne  that  a  monk,  wrhan  he  is  cloisterlees, 
Is  lykned  til  a  fish  that  is  waterlees: 
This  is  to  seyn,  a  monk  out  of  his  cloistre. 
But  thilke  text  held  he  nat  worth  an  oistre, 

Sk.,  A,  145-lfii' 


183-220  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  269 

And  I  seyde  his  opinioun  was  good. 

What  sholde  he  studie,  and  make  him-selven  wood, 

Upon  a  book  in  cioistre  alwey  to  poure, 

Or  swinken  with  his  handes  and  laboure 

As  Austin  bit?    How  shal  the  world  be  served? 

Lat  Austin  have  his  swink  to  him  reserved. 

Therfore  he  was  a  pricasour  aright: 

Grehoundes  he  had,  as  swift  as  fowel  in  flight; 

Of  priking  and  of  hunting  for  the  hare 

Was  al  his  lust,  for  no  cost  wolde  he  spare. 

I  seigh  his  sieves  purfiled  at  the  hond 

With  grys,  and  that  the  fyneste  of  a  lond; 

And  for  to  festne  his  hood  under  his  chin, 

He  had  of  gold  y-wroght  a  ful  curious  pin: 

A  love-knotte  in  the  gretter  ende  ther  was. 

His  heed  was  balled,  that  shoon  as  any  glas, 

And  eek  his  face  as  he  had  been  anoint. 

He  was  a  lord  ful  fat  and  in  good  point: 

His  eyen  stepe,  and  rolling  in  his  heed, 

That  stemed  as  a  forneys  of  a  leed; 

His  botes  souple,  his  hors  in  greet  estat. 

Now  certeinly  he  was  a  fair  prelat; 

He  was  nat  pale  as  a  for-pyned  goost. 

A  fat  swan  loved  he  best  of  any  roost. 

His  palfrey  was  as  broun  as  is  a  berye. 

A  FRERE  ther  was,  a  wantown  and  a  merye, 
A  limitour,  a  ful  solempne  man. 
In  alle  the  ordres  foure  is  noon  that  can 
So  muche  of  daliaunce  and  fair  langage. 
He  hadde  maad  ful  many  a  mariage 
Of  yonge  wommen,  at  his  owne  cost. 
Un-to  his  ordre  he  was  a  noble  post. 
Ful  wel  biloved  and  famulier  was  he 
With  frankeleyns  over-al  in  his  contree, 
And  eek  with  worthy  wommen  of  the  toun. 
For  he  had  power  of  confessioun, 
As  seyde  him-self,  more  than  a  curat, 
For  of  his  ordre  he  was  licentiat. 

Sk.,  A,  183-220 


270  CHAUCER  221-253 

Ful  swetely  herde  he  confessioun, 
And  plesaunt  was  his  absolucioun. 
He  was  an  esy  man  to  yeve  penaunce 
Ther  as  he  wiste  to  han  a  good  pitaunce; 
For  unto  a  povre  ordre  for  to  yive 
Is  signe  that  a  man  is  wel  y-shrive. 
For  if  he  yaf,  he  dorste  make  avaimt, 
He  wiste  that  a  man  was  repentaunt. 
For  many  a  man  so  hard  is  of  his  herte, 
He  may  nat  wepe  al-thogh  him  sore  smerte. 
Therfore  in  stede  of  weping  and  preyeres, 
Men  mote  yeve  silver  to  the  povre  freres. 
His  tipet  was  ay  farsed  ful  of  knyves 
And  pinnes  for  to  yeven  faire  wyves. 
And  certeinly  he  had  a  mery  note; 
Wel  coude  he  singe  and  pleyen  on  a  rote; 
Of  yeddinges  he  bar  utterly  the  prys. 
His  nekke  whyt  was  as  the  flour-de-lys; 
Ther-to  he  strong  was  as  a  champioun. 
He  knew  the  tavernes  wel  in  every  toun, 
And  everich  hostiler  and  tappestere 
Bet  than  a  lazar  or  a  beggestere; 
For  un-to  swich  a  worthy  man  as  he 
Acorded  nat,  as  by  his  facultee, 
To  have  with  seke  lazars  aqueyntaunce. 
It  is  riat  honest,  it  may  nat  avaunce, 
For  to  delen  with  no  swich  poraille, 
But  al  with  riche  and  sellers  of  vitaille. 
And  over-al,  ther  as  profit  sholde  aryse 
Curteys  he  was  and  lowly  of  servyse. 
Ther  nas  no  man  no-wher  so  vertuous. 
He  was  the  beste  begger  in  his  hous; 
For  thogh  a  widwe  hadde  noght  a  sho, 
So  plesaunt  was  his  "In  principle " 
Yet  wolde  he  have  a  ferthing  er  he  wente. 
His  purchas  was  wel  bettre  than  his  rente. 
And  rage  he  coude  as  it  were  right  a  whelp. 
In  love-dayes  ther  coude  he  muchel  help: 

Sk.  A,  221-258 


259-296  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  271 

For  ther  he  was  nat  lyk  a  cloisterer 
With  a  thredbar  cope,  as  is  a  povre  scoler, 
But  he  was  lyk  a  maister  or  a  pope. 
Of  double  worsted  was  his  semi-cope, 
That  rounded  as  a  belle  out  of  the  presse. 
Somwhat  he  lipsed  for  his  wantownesse, 
To  make  his  English  swete  up-on  his  tonge. 
And  in  his  harping,  whan  that  he  had  songe, 
His  eyen  twinkled  in  his  heed  aright 
As  doon  the  sterres  in  the  frosty  night. 
This  worthy  limitour  was  cleped  Huberd. 

A  MARCHANT  was  ther  with  a  forked  berd, 
In  mottelee,  and  hye  on  horse  he  sat, 
Up-on  his  heed  a  Flaundrish  bever  hat; 
His  botes  clasped  faire  and  fetisly. 
His  resons  he  spak  ful  solempnely, 
Sowning  alway  thencrees  of  his  winning. 
He  wolde  the  see  were  kept  for  anything 
Bitwixe  Middelburgh  and  Orewelle. 
Wei  coude  he  in  eschaunge  sheeldes  selle. 
This  worthy  man  ful  wel  his  wit  bisette; 
Ther  wiste  no  wight  that  he  was  in  dette, 
So  estatly  was  he  of  his  governaunce, 
With  his  bargaynes,  and  with  his  chevisaunce. 
For  sothe  he  was  a  worthy  man  with-alle, 
But  sooth  to  seyn,  I  noot  how  men  him  calle. 

A  CLERK  ther  was  of  Oxenford  also 
That  un-to  logik  hadde  longe  y-go. 
As  lene  was  his  hors  as  is  a  rake, 
And  he  nas  nat  right  fat,  I  undertake, 
But  loked  holwe,  and  ther-to  soberly. 
Ful  thredbar  was  his  overest  courtepy; 
For  he  had  geten  him  yet  no  benefyce, 
Ne  was  so  worldly  for  to  have  offyce. 
For  him  was  lever  have  at  his  beddes  heed 
Twenty  bokes  clad  in  blak  or  reed 
Of  Aristotle  and  his  philosophye 
Than  robes  riche  or  fithele  or  gay  sautrye. 

Sk.,  A,  259-296 


272  CHAUCER 


297-334 


But  al  be  that  he  was  a  philosophic, 
Yet  hadde  he  but  litel  gold  in  cofre; 
But  al  that  he  mighte  of  his  frendes  hente, 
On  bokes  and  on  lerning  he  it  spente,* 
And  bisily  gan  for  the  soules  preye 
Of  hem  that  yaf  him  wher-with  to  scoleye. 
Of  studie  took  he  most  cure  and  most  hede. 
Noght  o  word  spak  he  more  than  was  nede, 
And  that  was  seyd  in  forme  and  reverence, 
And  short  and  quik,  and  ful  of  hy  sentence. 
Souning  in  moral  vertu  was  his  speche, 
And  gladly  wolde  he  lerne,  and  gladly  teche. 

A  SERGEANT  OF  THE  LAWE,  war  and  wys, 
That  often  hadde  been  at  the  parvys, 
Ther  was  also,  ful  riche  of  excellence. 
Discreet  he  was,  and  of  greet  reverence: 
He  semed  swich,  his  wordes  were  so  wyse. 
lustyce  he  was  ful  often  in  assyse, 
By  patente,  and  by  pleyn  commissioun; 
For  his  science,  and  for  his  heigh  renoun, 
Of  fees  and  robes  had  he  many  oon. 
So  greet  a  purchasour  was  no-wher  noon. 
Al  was  fee  simple  to  him  in  effect, 
His  purchasing  mighte  nat  been  infect. 
No-wher  so  bisy  a  man  as  he  ther  nas; 
And  yet  he  semed  bisier  than  he  was. 
In  termes  had  he  cas  and  domes  alle 
That  from  the  tyme  of  King  William  were  falle. 
Therto  he  coude  endyte  and  make  a  thing, 
Ther  coude  no  wight  pinche  at  his  wry  ting; 
And  every  statut  coude  he  pleyn  by  rote. 
He  rood  but  hoomly  in  a  medlee  cote. 
Girt  with  a  ceint  of  silk  with  barres  smale; 
Of  his  array  telle  I  no  lenger  tale. 

A  FRANKELEYN  was  in  his  companye; 
Whyt  was  his  berd  as  is  the  dayesye. 
Of  his  complexioun  he  was  sangwyn. 
Wei  loved  he  by  the  morwe  a  sop  in  wyn. 

Sk.,  A.  297-334 


i-372  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  273 

To  liven  in  delyt  was  evere  his  wone, 
For  he  was  Epicurus  owne  sone 
That  heeld  opinioun  that  pleyn  delyt 
Was  verraily  felicitee  parfyt. 
An  housholder,  and  that  a  greet,  was  he; 
Seint  lulian  he  was  in  his  contree. 
His  breed,  his  ale,  was  alwey  after  oon; 
A  bettre  envyned  man  was  no-wher  noon. 
With-oute  bake  mete  was  nevere  his  hous, 
Of  fish  and  flesh,  and  that  so  plentevous 
It  snewed  in  his  hous  of  mete  and  drinke, 
Of  alle  deyntees  that  men  coude  thinke. 
After  the  sondry  sesons  of  the  yeer 
So  chaunged  he  his  mete  and  his  soper. 
Ful  many  a  fat  partrich  had  he  in  mewe, 
And  many  a  breem  and  many  a  luce  in  stewe. 
Wo  was  his  cook  but-if  his  sauce  were 
Poynaunt  and  sharp,  and  redy  al  his  gere. 
His  table  dormant  in  his  halle  alway 
Stood  redy  covered  al  the  longe  day. 
At  sessiouns  ther  was  he  lord  and  sire; 
Ful  ofte  tyme  he  was  knight  of  the  shire. 
An  anlas  and  a  gipser  al  of  silk 
Heng  at  his  girdel,  whyt  as  morne  milk. 
A  shirreve  had  he  been,  and  a  countour; 
Was  no-wher  such  a  worthy  vavasour. 

An  HABERDASSHER  and  a  CARPENTER, 
A  WEBBE,  a  DYER,  and  a  TAPICER — 
And  they  weic  clothed  alle  in  o  lyveree 
Of  a  solempne  and  a  greet  fraternitee. 
Ful  freshe  and  newe  hir  gere  apyked  was; 
Hir  knyves  were  y-chaped  noght  with  bras 
But  al  with  silver,  wroght  ful  clene  and  weel, 
Hir  girdles  and  hir  pouches  every-deel. 
Wei  semed  ech  of  hem  a  fair  burgeys 
To  sitten  in  a  yeldhalle  on  a  deys. 
Everich  for  the  wisdom  that  he  can 
Was  shaply  for  to  been  an  alderman. 

Sk.,  A,  335-372 


274  CHAUCER 


373-410 


For  catel  hadde  they  y-nogh  and  rente, 
And  eek  hir  wyves  wolde  it  wel  assente: 
And  elles  certein  were  they  to  blame. 
It  is  ful  fair  to  been  y-clept  "Madame" 
And  goon  to  vigilyes  al  bifore, 
And  have  a  mantel  royalliche  y-bore. 

A  COOK  they  hadde  with  hem  for  the  nones, 
To  boille  the  chiknes  with  the  mary-bones, 
And  poudre-marchant  tart,  and  galingale. 
Wel  coude  he  knowe  a  draughte  of  London  ale. 
He  coude  roste,  and  sethe,  and  broille,  and  frye, 
Maken  mortreux,  and  wel  bake  a  pye. 
But  greet  harm  was  it,  as  it  thoughte  me, 
That  on  his  shine  a  mormal  hadde  he; 
For  blankmanger,  that  made  he  with  the  beste. 

A  SHIPMAN  was  ther,  woning  fer  by  weste: 
For  aught  I  woot,  he  was  of  Dertemouthe. 
He  rood  up-on  a  rouncy  as  he  couthe, 
In  a  gowne  of  falding  to  the  knee. 
A  daggere  hanging  on  a  laas  had  he 
Aboute  his  nekke  under  his  arm  adoun. 
The  hote  somer  had  maad  his  hewe  al  broun; 
And  certeinly  he  was  a  good  felawe. 
Ful  many  a  draughte  of  wyn  had  he  y-drawe 
From  Burdeux-ward,  whyl  that  the  chapman  sleep. 
Of  nyce  conscience  took  he  no  keep. 
If  that  he  faught,  and  had  the  hyer  hond, 
By  water  he  sente  hem  hoom  to  every  lond. 
But  of  his  craft  to  rekene  wel  his  tydes, 
His  stremes  and  his  daungers  him  bisydes, 
His  herberwe  and  his  mone,  his  lodemenage, 
Ther  nas  noon  swich  from  Hulle  to  Cartage. 
Hardy  he  was,  and  wys  to  undertake; 
With  many  a  tempest  had  his  berd  been  shake. 
He  knew  wel  alle  the  havenes  as  they  were 
From  Gootland  to  the  cape  of  Finistere, 
And  every  cryke  in  Britayne  and  in  Spayne. 
His  barge  y-cleped  was  the  Maudelayne. 

Sk.,  A,  373-410 


411-448  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  275 

With  us  ther  was  a  DOCTOUR  OF  PHISYK, 

In  al  this  world  ne  was  ther  noon  him  lyk 

To  speke  of  phisik  and  of  surgery e; 

For  he  was  grounded  in  astronomye. 

He  kepte  his  pacient  a  ful  greet  del 

In  houres  by  his  magik  naturel. 

Wei  coude  he  fortunen  the  ascendent 

Of  his  images  for  his  pacient. 

He  knew  the  cause  of  everich  maladye, 

Were  it  of  hoot  or  cold,  or  moiste  or  drye, 

And  wher  engendred  and  of  what  humour; 

He  was  a  verrey  parfit  practisour. 

The  cause  y-knowe,  and  of  his  harm  the  rote, 

Anon  he  yaf  the  seke  man  his  bote. 

Ful  redy  had  he  his  apothecaries 

To  sende  him  his  drogges  and  his  letuaries; 

For  ech  of  hem  made  other  for  to  winner 

Hir  frendschip  nas  nat  newe  to  biginne. 

Wei  knew  he  the  olde  Esculapius, 

And  Deiscorides,  and  eek  Rufus, 

Old  Ypocras,  Haly,  and  Galien; 

Serapion,  Razis,  and  Avicen; 

Averrois,  Damascien,  and  Constantyn; 

Bernard,  and  Gatesden,  and  Gilbertyn. 

Of  his  diete  mesurable  was  he; 

For  it  was  of  no  superfluitee, 

But  of  greet  norissing  and  digestible. 

His  studie  was  but  litel  on  the  Bible. 

In  sangwin  and  in  pers  he  clad  was  al, 

Lyned  with  taffata  and  with  sendal; 

And  yet  he  was  but  esy  of  dispence: 

He  kepte  that  he  wan  in  pestilence. 

For  gold  in  phisik  is  a  cordial, 

Therfore  he  lovede  gold  in  special. 

A  good  WYF  was  ther  of  bisyde  BATHE, 
But  she  was  som-del  deef,  and  that  was  scathe. 
Of  clooth-making  she  hadde  swich  an  haunt 
She  passed  hem  of  Ypres  and  of  Gaunt. 

Sk.,  A,  411-448 


276  CHAUCER  449-486 

In  al  the  parisshe  wyf  ne  was  ther  noon 

That  to  the  offring  bifore  hir  sholde  goon; 

And  if  ther  did,  certeyn,  so  wrooth  was  she 

That  she  was  out  of  alle  charitee. 

Hir  coverchiefs  ful  fyne  were  of  ground: 

I  dorste  swere  they  weyeden  ten  pound 

That  on  a  Sonday  were  upon  hir  heed. 

Hir  hosen  weren  of  fyn  scarlet  reed, 

Ful  streit  y-teyd,  and  shoos  ful  moiste  and  newe. 

Bold  was  hir  face,  and  fair,  and  reed  of  hewe. 

She  was  a  worthy  womman  al  hir  lyve, 

Housbondes  at  chirche-dore  she  hadde  fyve 

Withouten  other  companye  in  youthe; 

But  therof  nedeth  nat  to  speke  as  nouthe. 

And  thryes  had  she  been  at  Jerusalem; 

She  hadde  passed  many  a  straunge  streem; 

At  Rome  she  hadde  been,  and  at  Boloigne, 

In  Galice  at  Seint  lame,  and  at  Coloigne; 

She  coude  muche  of  wandring  by  the  weye. 

Gat-tothed  was  she,  soothly  for  to  seye. 

Up-on  an  ambler  esily  she  sat, 

Y-wimpled  wel,  and  on  hir  heed  an  hat 

As  brood  as  is  a  bokeler  or  a  targe; 

A  foot-mantel  aboute  hir  hipes  large, 

And  on  hir  feet  a  paire  of  spores  sharpe. 

In  felawschipe  wel  coude  she  laughe  and  carpe. 

Of  remedyes  of  love  she  knew  per-chaunce, 

For  she  coude  of  that  art  the  olde  daunce. 

A  good  man  was  ther  of  religioun, 
And  was  a  povre  PERSOUNE  of  a  toun ; 
But  riche  he  was  of  holy  thoght  and  werk. 
He  was  also  a  lerned  man,  a  clerk, 
That  Cristes  Gospel  trewely  wolde  preche; 
His  parisshens  devoutly  wolde  he  teche. 
Benigne  he  was,  and  wonder  diligent, 
And  in  adversitee  ful  pacient, 
And  swich  he  was  y-preved  ofte  sythes. 
Ful  looth  were  him  to  cursen  for  his  tythes, 

Sk..  A,  449-486 


487-524  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  277 

But  rather  wolde  he  yeven,  out  of  doute, 
Un-to  his  povre  parisshens  aboute 
Of  his  offring,  and  eek  of  his  substaunce. 
He  coude  in  litel  thing  han  suffisaunce. 
Wyd  was  his  parisshe,  and  houses  fer  a-sonder, 
But  he  ne  lafte  nat,  for  reyn  ne  thonder, 
In  siknesse  nor  in  meschief,  to  visyte 
The  ferreste  in  his  parisshe,  muche  and  lyte, 
Up-on  his  feet,  and  in  his  hand  a  staf . 
This  noble  ensample  to  his  sheep  he  yaf, 
That  first  he  wroghte  and  afterward  he  taughte. 
Out  of  the  Gospel  he  tho  wordes  caughte; 
And  this  figure  he  added  eek  ther-to, 
That  if  gold  ruste,  what  shal  iren  do? 
For  if  a  preest  be  foul,  on  whom  we  truste, 
No  wonder  is  a  lewed  man  to  ruste; 
Wei  oghte  a  preest  ensample  for  to  yive 
By  his  clennesss  how  that  his  sheep  shold  live. 
He  sette  nat  his  benefice  to  hyre, 
And  leet  his  sheep  encombred  in  the  myre, 
And  ran  to  London,  un-to  Seynte  Poules, 
To  seken  him  a  chaunterie  for  soules, 
Or  with  a  bretherhede  to  been  withholde; 
But  dwelte  at  hoom,  and  kepte  wel  his  folde, 
So  that  the  wolf  ne  made  it  nat  miscarie; 
He  was  a  shepherde  and  no  mercenarie. 
-     And  though  he  holy  were  and  vertuous, 
He  was  to  sinful  man  nat  despitous, 
Ne  of  his  speche  daungerous  ne  digne, 
But  in  his  teching  discreet  and  benigne. 
To  drawen  folk  to  hevene  by  fairnesse 
By  good  ensample  was  his  bisinesse : 
But  it  were  any  persone  obstinat, 
What-so  he  were,  of  heigh  or  lowe  estat, 
Him  wolde  he  snibben  sharply  for  the  nones. 
A  bettre  preest,  I  trowe  that  nowher  noon  is. 
He  wayted  after  no  pompe  and  reverence, 
Ne  maked  him  a  spyced  conscience; 

Sk.,  A,  487-502;  505-526 


278  CHAUCER  525-562 

But  Cristes  lore,  and  his  apostles  twelve, 
He  taughte,  and  first  he  folwed  it  him-selve. 

With  him  ther  was  a  PLOWMAN,  was  his  brother, 
That  had  y-lad  of  dong  f ul  many  a  fother. 
A  trewe  swinker  and  a  good  was  he, 
Living  in  pees  and  parfit  charitee. 
God  loved  he  best  with  al  his  hole  herte 
At  alle  tymes,  thogh  him  gamed  or  smerte, 
And  than  his  neighebour  right  as  him-selve. 
He  wolde  thresshe,  and  ther-to  dyke  and  delve, 
For  Cristes  sake,  for  every  povre  wight, 
Withouten  hyre,  if  it  lay  in  his  might. 
His  tythes  payed  he  ful  faire  and  wel, 
Bothe  of  his  propre  swink  and  his  catel. 
In  a  tabard  he  rood  upon  a  mere. 

Ther  was  also  a  Reve  and  a  Millere, 
A  Somnour  and  a  Pardoner  also, 
A  Maunciple  and  my-self ;  ther  were  namo. 

The  MILLER  was  a  stout  carl  for  the  nones: 
Ful  big  he  was  of  braun  and  eek  of  bones; 
That  proved  wel,  for  over-al  ther  he  cam, 
At  wrastling  he  wolde  have  alwey  the  ram. 
He  was  short-sholdred,  brood,  a  thikke  knarre, 
Ther  nas  no  dore  that  he  nolde  heve  of  harre 
Or  breke  it  at  a  renning  with  his  heed, 
His  berd  as  any  sowe  or  fox  was  reed, 
And  ther-to  brood  as  though  it  were  a  spade. 
Up-on  the  cop  right  of  his  nose  he  hadde 
A  werte,  and  ther-on  stood  a  tuft  of  heres 
Reed  as  the  bristles  of  a  sowes  eres; 
His  nose-thirles  blake  were  and  wyde. 
A  swerd  and  bokeler  bar  he  by  his  syde. 
His  mouth  as  greet  was  as  a  greet  forneys; 
He  was  a  langler  and  a  goliardeys, 
And  that  was  most  of  sinne  and  harlotryes. 
Wel  coude  he  stelen  corn,  and  tollen  thryes; 
And  yet  he  had  a  thombe  of  gold,  pardee. 
A  whyt  cote  and  a  blew  hood  wered  he. 

Sk.f  A,  527-564 


563-600  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  279 

A  baggepype  wel  coude  he  blowe  and  sowne, 
And  ther-with-al  he  broghte  us  out  of  towne. 

A  gentil  MAUNCIPLE  was  ther  of  a  temple, 
Of  which  achatours  mighte  take  exemple 
For  to  be  wyse  in  bying  of  vitaille. 
For  whether  that  he  payde  or  took  by  taille, 
Algate  he  wayted  so  in  his  achat 
That  he  was  ay  biforn  and  in  good  stat. 
Now  is  nat  that  of  God  a  ful  fair  grace, 
That  swich  a  lewed  mannes  wit  shal  pace 
The  wisdom  of  an  heep  of  lerned  men? 
Of  maistres  had  he  mo  than  thryes  ten 
That  were  of  lawe  expert  and  curious, 
Of  which  ther  were  a  doseyn  in  that  hous, 
Worthy  to  ben  stiwardes  of  rente  and  lond 
Of  any  lord  that  is  in  Engelond, 
To  make  him  live  by  his  propre  good, 
In  honour  dettelees  but  he  were  wood, 
Or  live  as  scarsly  as  him  list  desire; 
And  able  for  to  helpen  al  a  shire 
In  any  cas  that  mighte  falle  or  happe; 
And  yit  this  maunciple  sette  hir  aller  cappe. 

The  REVE  was  a  sclendre  colerik  man; 
His  berd  was  shave  as  ny  as  evere  he  can; 
His  heer  was  by  his  eres  rounde  y-shorn;     . 
His  top  was  dokked  lyk  a  preest  biforn; 
Ful  longe  were  his  legges  and  ful  lene, 
Y-lyk  a  staf,  ther  was  no  calf  y-sene. 
Wel  coude  he  kepe  a  gerner  and  a  binne; 
Ther  was  noon  auditour  coude  on  him  winne. 
Wel  wiste  he  by  the  droghte  and  by  the  reyn 
The  yelding  of  his  seed  and  of  his  greyn. 
His  lordes  sheep,  his  neet,  his  dayerye, 
His  swyn,  his  hors,  his  stoor,  and  his  pultrye 
Was  hoolly  in  this  reves  governinge, 
And  by  his  covenaunt  yaf  the  rekeninge, 
Sin  that  his  lord  was  twenty  yeer  of  age. 
Ther  coude  no  man  bringe  him  in  arrerage, 

Sk.,  A,  565-602 


280  CHAUCER  501-638 

Ther  nas  baillif ,  ne  herd?,  ne  other  hyne, 
That  he  ne  knew  his  sleigh te  and  his  covyne; 
They  were  adrad  of  him  as  of  the  deeth. 
His  woning  was  ful  fair  up-on  an  heeth, 
With  grene  trees  shadwed  was  his  place. 
He  coude  bettre  than  his  lord  purchase. 
Ful  riche  he  was  astored  prively; 
His  lord  wel  coude  he  plesen  subtilly, 
To  yeve  and  lene  him  of  his  owne  good 
And  have  a  thank  and  yet  a  cote  and  hood. 
In  youthe  he  lerned  had  a  good  mister: 
He  was  a  wel  good  wrighte,  a  carpenter. 
This  reve  sat  up-on  a  ful  good  stot, 
That  was  al  pomely  grey  and  highte  Scot. 
A  long  surcote  of  pers  up-on  he  hadde, 
And  by  his  syde  he  bar  a  rusty  blade. 
Of  Northfolk  was  this  reve  of  which  I  telle, 
Bisyde  a  toun  men  clepen  Baldeswelle. 
Tukked  he  was,  as  is  a  frere,  aboute, 
And  evere  he  rood  the  hindreste  of  our  route. 

A  SOMNOUR  was  ther  with  us  in  that  place 
That  had  a  fyr-reed  cherubinnes  face; 
For  sawcefleem  he  was  with  eyen  narwe. 
As  hoot  he  was  and  lecherous  as  a  sparwe, 
With  scalled  browes  blake,  and  piled  berd: 
Of  his  visage  children  were  aferd. 
Ther  nas  quik- silver,  li targe,  ne  brimstoon, 
Boras,  ceruce,  ne  oille  of  tartre  noon, 
Ne  oynement  that  wolde  dense  and  byte, 
That  him  mighte  helpen  of  his  whelkes  whyte, 
Nor  of  the  knobbes  sitting  on  his  chekes. 
Wel  loved  he  garleek,  oynons,  and  eek  lekes, 
And  for  to  drinken  strong  wyn,  reed  as  blood. 
Than  wolde  he  speke,  and  crye  as  he  were  wood. 
And  whan  that  he  wel  dronken  had  the  wyn, 
Than  wolde  he  speke  no  word  but  Latyn. 
A  fewe  termes  had  he,  two  or  three, 
That  he  had  lerned  out  of  som  decree: 

Sk.,  A,  603-640 


639-676  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  281 

No  wonder  is,  he  herde  it  al  the  day, 
And  eek  ye  knowen  wel  how  that  a  lay 
Can  clepen  "  Watte"  as  wel  as  can  the  pope. 
But  who-so  coude  in  other  thing  him  grope, 
Than  had  he  spent  al  his  philosophye: 
Ay  "Questio  quid  luris"  wolde  he  crye. 
He  was  a  gen  til  harlot  and  a  kinde; 
A  bettre  felawe  sholde  men  noght  finde. 
And  if  he  fond  o-wher  a  good  felawe, 
He  wolde  techen  him  to  have  non  awe, 
In  swich  cas,  of  the  erchedeknes  curs, 
But-if  a  mannes  soule  were  in  his  purs, 
For  in  his  purs  he  sholde  y-punisshed  be. 
"Purs  is  the  erchedeknes  helle,"  seyde  he. 
But  wel  I  woot  he  lyed  right  in  dede: 
Of  cursing  oghte  ech  gilty  man  him  drede, 
For  curs  wol  slee,  right  as  assoiling  saveth; 
And  also  war  him  of  a  significamt. 
In  daunger  had  he  at  his  owne  gyse 
The  yonge  girles  of  the  diocyse, 
And  knew  hir  counseil,  and  was  al  hir  reed. 
A  gerland  had  he  set  up-on  his  heed 
As  greet  as  it  were  for  an  ale-stake; 
A  bokeler  had  he  maad  him  of  a  cake. 

With  him  ther  rood  a  gentil  PARDONER 
Of  Rouncival,  his  freend  and  his  compeer, 
That  streight  was  comen  fro  the  court  of  Rome, 
Ful  loude  he  song,  "Com  hider,  love,  to  me." 
This  somnour  bar  to  him  a  stif  burdoun, 
Was  nevere  trompe  of  half  so  greet  a  soun. 
This  pardoner  had  heer  as  yelow  as  wex, 
But  smothe  it  heng  as  dooth  a  strike  of  flex; 
By  ounces  henge  his  lokkes  that  he  hadde, 
And  ther-with  he  his  shuldres  overspradde, 
But  thinne  it  lay,  by  colpons  oon  and  oon. 
But  hood,  for  lolitee,  ne  wered  he  noon, 
For  it  was  trussed  up  in  his  walet. 
Him  though ce  he  rood  al  of  the  newe  let: 

Sk.,  A,  641-648;  653-682 


282  CHAUCER  677-714 

Dischevele,  save  his  cappe,  he  rood  al  bare. 
Swiche  glaring  eyen  had  he  as  an  hare. 
A  vernicle  had  he  sowed  on  his  cappe. 
His  walet  lay  biforn  him  in  his  lappe 
Bretful  of  pardoun  come  from  Rome  al  hoot. 
A  voys  he  had  as  smal  as  hath  a  goot. 
No  berd  had  he,  ne  nevere  sholde  have; 
As  smothe  it  was  as  it  were  late  y-shave. 
Ne  was  ther  swich  another  pardoner: 
For  in  his  male  he  had  a  pilwe-beer 
Which  that,  he  seyde,  was  our  lady  veyl; 
He  seyde  he  had  a  gobet  of  the  seyl 
That  Seynte  Peter  had,  whan  that  he  wente 
Up-on  the  see,  til  lesu  Crist  him  hente; 
He  had  a  croys  of  latoun,  ful  of  stones, 
And  in  a  glas  he  hadde  pigges  bones. 
But  with  these  relikes,  whan  that  he  fond 
A  povre  persone,  dwelling  up-on  lond, 
Up-on  a  day  he  gat  him  more  moneye 
Than  that  the  persone  gat  in  monthes  tweye. 
And  thus  with  feyned  flaterye  and  lapes 
He  made  the  persone  and  the  peple  his  apes. 
But  trewely  to  tellen,  atte  laste, 
He  was  in  chirche  a  noble  ecclesiaste. 
Wei  coude  he  rede  a  lessoun  or  a  storie, 
But  alderbest  he  song  an  offertorie; 
For  wel  he  wiste,  whan  that  song  was  songe, 
He  moste  preche,  and  wel  affyle  his  tonge 
To  winne  silver,  as  he  ful  wel  coude; 
Therfore  he  song  so  merily  and  loude. 

Now  have  I  told  you  shortly,  in  a  clause, 
Thestat,  tharray,  the  nombre,  and  eek  the  cause 
Why  that  assembled  was  this  companye 
In  Southwerk  at  this  gentil  hostelrye 
That  highte  the  Tabard,  faste  by  the  Belle. 
But  now  is  tyme  to  yow  for  to  telle 
How  that  we  baren  us  that  ilke  night, 
Whan  we  were  in  that  hostelrye  alight. 

Sk.,  A,  683-690;  693-722 


715-752  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  283 

And  after  wol  I  telle  of  our  viage, 
And  al  the  remenaunt  of  our  pilgrimage. 
But  first  I  pray  yow,  of  your  curteisye, 
That  ye  narette  it  nat  my  vileinye, 
Thogh  that  I  pleynly  speke  in  this  matere, 
To  telle  yow  hir  wordes  and  hir  chere; 
Ne  thogh  I  speke  hir  wordes  properly. 
For  this  ye  knowen  al-so  wel  as  I, 
Who-so  shal  telle  a  tale  after  a  man, 
He  moot  reherce  as  ny  as  evere  he  can 
Everich  a  word  if  it  be  in  his  charge, 
Al  speke  he  nevere  so  rudeliche  and  large; 
Or  elles  he  moot  telle  his  tale  untrewe, 
Or  feyne  thing,  or  finde  wordes  newe. 
He  may  nat  spare,  al- thogh  he  were  his  brother; 
He  moot  as  wel  seye  o  word  as  another. 
Crist  spak  him-self  ful  brode  in  holy  writ, 
And  wel  ye  wot  no  vileinye  is  it. 
Eek  Plato  seith,  who-so  that  can  him  rede, 
The  wordes  mote  be  cosin  to  the  dede. 
Also  I  prey  yow  to  foryeve  it  me, 
Al  have  I  nat  set  folk  in  hir  degree 
Heer  in  this  tale,  as  that  they  sholde  stonde: 
My  wit  is  short,  ye  may  wel  understonde. 
Greet  chere  made  our  host  us  everichon, 
And  to  the  soper  sette  he  us  anon; 
And  served  us  with  vitaille  at  the  beste. 
Strong  was  the  wyn,  and  wel  to  drinke  us  leste. 
A  semely  man  our  hoste  was  with-alle 
For  to  han  been  a  marshal  in  an  halle; 
A  large  man  he  was  with  eyen  stepe, 
A  fairer  burgeys  is  ther  noon  in  Chepe: 
Bold  of  his  speche,  and  wys,  and  wel  y-taught, 
And  of  manhod  him  lakkede  right  naught. 
Eek  therto  he  was  right  a  mery  man, 
And  after  soper  pleyen  he  bigan, 
And  spak  of  mirthe  amonges  othere  thinges, 
Whan  that  we  had  maad  our  rekeninges; 

Sk.,  A,  723-760 


284  CHAUCER  753-790 

And  seyde  thus:  "Now  lordinges,  trewely, 
Ye  been  to  me  right  welcome  hertely: 
For  by  my  trouthe,  if  that  I  shal  nat  lye, 
I  ne  saugh  this  yeer  so  mery  a  companye 
At  ones  in  this  herberwe  as  is  now. 
Fayn  wolde  I  doon  yow  mirthe,  wiste  I  how. 
And  of  a  mirthe  I  am  right  now  bithoght, 
To  doon  yow  ese,  and  it  shal  coste  noght. 

"  Ye  goon  to  Caunterbury:  God  yow  spede, 
The  blisful  martir  quyte  yow  your  mede! 
And  wel  I  woot,  as  ye  goon  by  the  weye, 
Ye  shapen  yow  to  talen  and  to  pleye; 
For  trewely,  confort  ne  mirthe  is  noon 
To  ryde  by  the  weye  doumb  as  a  stoon. 
And  therfore  wol  I  maken  yow  disport, 
As  I  seyd  erst,  and  doon  yow  som  confort. 
And  if  yow  lyketh  alle,  by  oon  assent, 
Now  for  to  stonden  at  my  lugement, 
And  for  to  werken  as  I  shal  yow  seye, 
To-morwe,  whan  ye  ryden  by  the  weye, 
Now,  by  my  fader  soule,  that  is  deed, 
But  ye  be  merye,  I  wol  yeve.  yow  myn  heed. 
Hold  up  your  hond,  withouten  more  speche." 

Our  counseil  was  nat  longe  for  to  seche. 
Us  thoughte  it  was  noght  worth  to  make  it  wys, 
And  graunted  him  withouten  more  avys, 
And  bad  him  seye  his  verdit,  as  him  leste. 

"Lordinges,"  quod  he,  "now  herkneth  for  the  beste, 
But  tak  it  not,  I  prey  yow,  in  desdeyn! 
This  is  the  poynt,  to  speken  short  and  pleyn, 
That  ech  of  yow  to  shorte  with  your  weye 
In  this  viage  shal  telle  tales  tweye 
To  Caunterbury-ward,  I  mene  it  so, 
And  horn-ward  he  shal  tellen  othere  two, 
Of  aventures  that  whylom  han  bifalle. 
And  which  of  yow  that  bereth  him  best  of  alle, 
That  is  to  seyn,  that  telleth  in  this  cas 
Tales  of  best  sentence  and  most  solas, 

Sk..  A,  761-798 


791-828  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  285 

Shal  have  a  soper  at  our  aller  cost 
Heer  in  this  place,  sitting  by  this  post, 
Whan  that  we  come  agayn  fro  Caunterbury. 
And  for  to  make  yow  the  more  mery, 
I  wol  my-selven  gladly  with  yow  ryde, 
Right  at  myn  owne  cost,  and  be  your  gyde. 
And  who-so  wol  my  lugement  withseye 
Shal  paye  al  that  we  spenden  by  the  weye. 
And  if  ye  vouche-sauf  that  it  be  so, 
Tel  me  anon,  with-outen  wordes  mo, 
And  I  wol  erly  shape  me  therfore." 

This  thing  was  graunted,  and  our  othes  swore 
With  ful  glad  herte,  and  preyden  him  also 
That  he  wold  vouche-sauf  for  to  do  so, 
And  that  he  wolde  been  our  governour, 
And  of  our  tales  luge  and  reportour, 
And  sette  a  soper  at  a  certeyn  prys, 
And  we  wold  reuled  been  at  his  devys 
In  heigh  and  lowe;  and  thus  by  oon  assent 
We  been  acorded  to  his  lugement. 
And  ther-up-on  the  wyn  was  fet  anon: 
We  dronken,  and  to  reste  wente  echon 
With-outen  any  lenger  taryinge. 

A-morwe,  whan  that  day  bigan  to  springe, 
Up  roos  our  host  and  was  our  aller  cok, 
And  gadred  us  togidre,  alle  in  a  flok, 
And  forth  we  riden,  a  litel  more  than  pas, 
Un-to  the  watering  of  Seint  Thomas. 
And  ther  our  host  bigan  his  hors  areste, 
And  seyde,  "Lordinges,  herkneth,  if  yow  leste. 
Ye  woot  our  forward,  and  I  it  yow  recorde. 
If  even-song  and  morwe-song  acorde, 
Lat  se  now  who  shal  telle  the  firste  tale. 
As  evere  mote  I  drinke  wyn  or  ale, 
Who-so  be  rebel  to  my  lugement 
Shal  paye  for  al  that  by  the  weye  is  spent. 
Now  draweth  cut,  er  that  we  ferrer  twinne; 
He  which  that  hath  the  shortest  shal  biginne. 

Sk.,  A,  799-836 


286  CHAUCER  829-85o.  K.T..I-S 

Sir  knight,"  quod  he,  "my  maister  and  my  lord, 
Now  draweth  cut,  for  that  is  myn  acord. 
Cometh  neer,"  quod  he,  "my  lady  prioresse; 
And  ye,  sir  clerk,  lat  be  your  shamfastnesse: 
Ne  studieth  noght;  ley  hond  to,  every  man." 

Anon  to  drawen  every  wight  bigan, 
And  shortly  for  to  tellen  as  it  was, 
Were  it  by  aventure  or  sort  or  cas, 
The  sothe  is  this,  the  cut  fil  to  the  knight, 
Of  which  ful  blythe  and  glad  was  every  wight; 
And  telle  he  moste  his  tale,  as  was  resoun, 
By  forward  and  by  composicioun 
As  ye  han  herd.  What  nedeth  wordes  mo? 
And  whan  this  god§  man  saugh  that  it  was  so, 
As  he  that  wys  was  and  obedient 
To  kepe  his  forward  by  his  free  assent, 
He  seyde,  "Sin  I  shal  biginne  the  game, 
What,  welcome  be  the  cut,  a  Goddes  name! 
Now  lat  us  ryde,  and  herkneth  what  I  seye." 

And  with  that  word  we  riden  forth  our  weye, 
And  he  bigan  with  right  a  mery  chere 
His  tale  anon,  and  seyde  in  this  manere. 

Here  endeth  the  prologe  of  this  book;  and  here  biginneth  the 
first  tale,  which  is  the  Knightes  Tale. 


THE  KNIGHTES  TALE 

Whylom,  as  olde  stories  tellen  us, 
Ther  was  a  duk  that  highte  Theseus: 
Of  Athenes  he  was  lord  and  governour, 
And  in  his  tyme  swich  a  conquerour 
That  gretter  was  ther  noon  under  the  sonne. 
Ful  many  a  riche  contree  had  he  wonne; 
What  with  his  wisdom  and  his  chivalrye, 
He  conquered  al  the  regne  of  Femenye, 

Sk.,  A,  837-866 


9-46  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  287 

That  why  lorn  was  y-cleped  Scithia; 

And  weddede  the  quene  Ipolita, 

And  broghte  hir  hoom  with  him  in  his  contree 

With  muchel  glorie  and  greet  solempnitee, 

And  eek  hir  yonge  suster  Emelye. 

And  thus  with  victorie  and  with  melodye, 

This  duk,  of  whom  I  make  mencioun, 

When  he  was  come  almost  unto  the  toun, 

In  al  his  wele  and  in  his  moste  pryde, 

He  was  war,  as  he  caste  his  eye  asyde, 

Wher  that  ther  kneled  in  the  hye  weye 

A  companye  of  ladies,  tweye  and  tweye, 

Ech  after  other,  clad  in  clothes  blake. 

But  swich  a  cry  and  swich  a  wo  they  make 

That  in  this  world  nis  creature  livinge 

That  herde  swich  another  weymentinge; 

And  of  this  cry  they  nolde  nevere  stenten 

Til  they  the  reynes  of  his  brydel  henten. 

"What  folk  ben  ye,  that  at  myn  hoom-cominge 
Perturben  so  my  feste  with  cryinge?" 
Quod  Theseus.    "Have  ye  so  greet  envye 
Of  myn  honour,  that  thus  compleyne  and  crye? 
Or  who  hath  yow  misboden  or  offended? 
And  telleth  me  if  it  may  been  amended, 
And  why  that  ye  ben  clothed  thus  in  blak!" 

The  eldest  lady  of  hem  alle  spak, 
When  she  had  swouned  with  a  deedly  chere, 
That  it  was  routhe  for  to  seen  and  here, 
And  seyde,  "Lord,  to  whom  Fortune  hath  yiven 
Victorie,  and  as  a  conquerour  to  liven, 
Noght  greveth  us  your  glorie  and  your  honour; 
But  we  biseken  mercy  and  socour. 
Have  mercy  on  our  wo  and  our  distresse. 
Som  drope  of  pitee,  thurgh  thy  gentillesse, 
Up-on  us  wrecched  wommen  lat  thou  falle. 
For  certes,  lord,  ther  nis  noon  of  us  alle, 
That  she  nath  been  a  duchesse  or  a  quene. 
Now  be  we  caitifs,  as  it  is  wel  sene! 

Sk.,  A,  867-872;  893-924 


288  CHAUCER  47-84 

"I  wrecche,  which  that  wepe  and  waille  thus, 
Was  why  lorn  wyf  to  King  Capaneus, 
That  starf  at  Thebes,  cursed  be  that  day! 
And  alle  we  that  been  in  this  array 
And  maken  al  this  lamentacioun, 
We  losten  alle  our  housbondes  at  that  toun 
Whyl  that  the  sege  ther-aboute  lay. 
And  yet  now  the  olde  Creon,  weylaway! 
That  lord  is  now  of  Thebes  the  citee, 
Fulfild  of  ire  and  of  iniquitee, 
He  for  despyt  and  for  his  tirannye, 
To  do  the  dede  bodyes  vileinye 
Of  alle  our  lordes,  which  that  ben  y-slawe, 
Hath  alle  the  bodyes  on  an  heep  y-drawe, 
And  wol  nat  suffren  hem  by  noon  assent 
Neither  to  been  y-buried  nor  y-brent, 
But  maketh  houndes  ete  hem  in  despyt." 
And  with  that  word,  with-outen  more  respyt, 
They  fillen  gruf,  and  cryden  pitously, 
"Have  on  us  wrecched  \vommen  som  mercy, 
And  lat  our  sorwe  sinken  in  thyn  herte!" 

This  gentil  duk  doun  from  his  courser  sterte 
With  herte  pitous,  wrhan  he  herde  hem  speke. 
Him  thoughte  that  his  herte  wolde  breke 
Whan  he  saugh  hem  so  pitous  and  so  mat 
That  whylom  weren  of  so  greet  estat. 
And  in  his  armes  he  hem  alle  up  hente, 
And  hem  conforteth  in  ful  good  entente; 
And  swoor  his  ooth,  as  he  was  trewe  knight 
He  wolde  doon  so  ferforthly  his  might 
Up-on  the  tyraunt  Creon  hem  to  wreke, 
That  al  the  peple  of  Grece  sholde  speke 
How  Creon  was  of  Theseus  y-served, 
As  he  that  had  his  deeth  ful  wel  deserved. 
And  right  anoon,  with-outen  more  abood, 
His  baner  he  desplayeth  and  forth  rood 
To  Thebes-ward,  and  al  his  host  bisyde: 
No  neer  Athenes  wolde  he  go  ne  ryde. 

Sk.,  A,  931-968 


ss-122  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  289 

The  rede  statue  of  Mars  with  spere  and  targe 
So  shyneth  in  his  whyte  baner  large 
That  alle  the  feeldes  gliteren  up  and  doun; 
And  by  his  baner  born  is  his  penoun 
Of  gold  ful  riche,  in  which  ther  was  y-bete 
The  Minotaur,  which  that  he  slough  in  Crete. 
But  shortly  for  to  speken  of  this  thing, 
With  Creon,  which  that  was  of  Thebes  king, 
He  faught,  and  slough  him  manly  as  a  knight 
In  pleyn  bataille,  and  putte  the  folk  to  flight. 
And  by  assaut  he  wan  the  citee  after, 
And  rente  adoun  bothe  wal  and  sparre  and  rafter; 
And  to  the  ladyes  he  restored  agayn 
The  bones  of  hir  housbondes  that  were  slayn, 
To  doon  obsequies  as  was  tho  the  gyse. 
But  it  were  al  to  longe  for  to  devyse 
The  grete  clamour  and  the  waymentinge 
That  the  ladyes  made  at  the  brenninge 
Of  the  bodyes,  and  the  grete  honour 
That  Theseus,  the  noble  conquerour, 
Doth  to  the  ladyes  whan  they  from  him  wente; 
But  shortly  for  to  telle  is  myn  entente. 
Whan  that  this  worthy  duk,  this  Theseus, 
Hath  Creon  slayn,  and  wonne  Thebes  thus, 
Stille  in  that  feeld  he  took  al  night  his  reste, 
And  did  with  al  the  contree  as  him  leste. 
To  ransake  in  the  tas  of  bodyes  dede, 
Hem  for  to  strepe  of  harneys  and  of  wede, 
The  pilours  diden  bisinesse  and  cure 
After  the  bataille  and  disconfiture. 
And  so  bifel  that  in  the  tas  they  founde, 
Thurgh-girt  with  many  a  grevous  blody  wounde, 
Two  yonge  knightes  ligging  by  and  by, 
Bothe  in  oon  armes  wroght  ful  richely, 
Of  whiche  two,  Arcita  hight  that  oon, 
And  that  other  knight  hight  Palamon. 
Nat  fully  quike,  ne  fully  dede  they  were; 
But  by  hir  cote-armures  and  by  hir  gere 

Sk.,  A,  975-980;  985-1016 


290  CHAUCER  123-150 

The  heraudes  knewe  hem  best  in  special 
As  they  that  weren  of  the  blood  royal 
Of  Thebes,  and  of  sustren  two  y-born. 
Out  of  the  tas  the  pilours  han  hem  torn, 
And  han  hem  caried  softe  un-to  the  tente 
Of  Theseus,  and  he  ful  sone  hem  sente 
To  Athenes,  to  dwellen  in  prisoun 
Perpetuelly,  he  nolde  no  raunsoun. 
And  whan  this  wrorthy  duk  hath  thus  y-don, 
He  took  his  host,  and  hoom  he  rood  anon 
With  laurer  crowned  as  a  conquerour. 
And  ther  he  liveth  in  loye  and  in  honour 
Terme  of  his  lyf :  what  nedeth  wordes  mo? 
And  in  a  tour  in  angwish  and  in  wo 
Dwellen  this  Palamoun  and  eek  Arcite 
For  everemore;  ther  may  no  gold  hem  quyte. 
This  passeth  yeer  by  yeer,  and  day  by  day, 
Til  it  fel  ones,  in  a  morwe  of  May, 
That  Emelye,  that  fairer  was  to  sene 
Than  is  the  lilie  upon  his  stalke  grene, 
And  fressher  than  the  May  with  floures  newe — 
For  with  the  rose  colour  stroof  hir  hewe, 
I  noot  which  was  the  fairer  of  hem  twro — 
Er  it  were  day,  as  was  hir  wone  to  do, 
She  was  arisen  and  al  redy  dight; 
For  May  wol  have  no  slogardye  a-night. 
The  sesoun  priketh  every  gentil  herte, 
And  maketh  him  out  of  his  sleep  to  sterte, 
And  seith,  "Arys,  and  do  thyn  observaunce ! " 
This  maked  Emelye  have  remembraunce 
To  doon  honour  to  May,  and  for  to  ryse. 
Y-clothed  was  she  freshe,  for  to  devyse; 
Hir  yelow  heer  was  broyded  in  a  tresse 
Bihinde  hir  bak  a  yerde  long,  I  gesse. 
And  in  the  gardin  at  the  sonne  up-rist 
She  walketh  up  and  doun,  and  as  hir  list 
She  gadereth  floures,  party  whyte  and  rede, 
To  make  a  sotil  gerland  for  hir  hede, 

Sk.,  A,  1017-1054 


161-198  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  291 

And  as  an  aungel  hevenly  she  song. 
The  grete  tour,  that  was  so  thikke  and  strong, 
Which  of  the  castel  was  the  chief  dongeoun 
(Ther-as  the  knightes  weren  in  prisoun, 
Of  which  I  tolde  yow,  and  tellen  shal), 
Was  evene  loynant  to  the  gardin-wal, 
Ther-as  this  Emelye  had  hir  pleyinge. 
Bright  was  the  sonne,  and  cleer  that  morweninge, 
And  Palamon,  this  woful  prisoner, 
As  was  his  wone,  by  leve  of  his  gayler, 
Was  risen,  and  romed  in  a  chambre  on  heigh, 
In  which  he  al  the  noble  citee  seigh 
And  eek  the  gardin  ful  of  braunches  grene, 
Ther-as  this  fresshe  Emelye  the  shene 
Was  in  hir  walk,  and  romed  up  and  doun. 
This  sorweful  prisoner,  this  Palamoun, 
Goth  in  the  chambre  roming  to  and  fro, 
And  to  him-self  compleyning  of  his  wo. 
That  he  was  born,  ful  ofte  he  seyde,  "Alas!" 
And  so  bifel  by  aventure  or  cas 
That  thurgh  a  windowe  thikke  of  many  a  barre 
Of  yren  greet,  and  squar  as  any  sparre, 
He  caste  his  eye  upon  Emelya, 
And  ther-with-al  he  bleynte,  and  cryde  "A!" 
As  though  he  stongen  were  un-to  the  herte. 
And  with  that  cry  Arcite  anon  up-sterte, 
And  seyde,  "  Cosin  myn,  what  eyleth  thee, 
That  art  so  pale  and  deedly  on  to  see? 
Why  crydestow?    Who  hath  thee  doon  offence? 
For  Goddes  love,  tak  al  in  pacience 
Our  prisoun,  for  it  may  non  other  be: 
Fortune  hath  yeven  us  this  adversitee. 
Som  wikke  aspect  or  disposicioun 
Of  Saturne,  by  sum  constellacioun, 
Hath  yeven  us  this,  al-though  we  had  it  sworn. 
So  stood  the  heven?  whan  that  we  were  born. 
We  moste  endure  it:  this  is  the  short  and  pleyn." 
This  Palamon  answerde,  and  seyde  ageyn, 

Sk.,  A,  1055-1092 


292  CHAUCER 


199-236 


"Cosyn,  for  sothe,  of  this  opinioun 

Thou  hast  a  veyn  imaginacioun. 

This  prison  caused  me  nat  for  to  crye. 

But  I  was  hurt  right  now  thurgh-oute  myn  ye 

In- to  myn  herte,  that  wol  my  bane  be. 

The  fairnesse  of  that  lady  that  I  see 

Yond  in  the  gardin  romen  to  and  fro 

Is  cause  of  al  my  crying  and  my  wo. 

I  noot  wher  she  be  womman  or  goddesse, 

But  Venus  is  it  soothly  as  I  gesse." 

And  ther-with-al  on  knees  doun  he  fil, 

And  seyde,  "  Venus,  if  it  be  thy  wil 

Yow  in  this  gardin  thus  to  transfigure 

Bifore  me,  sorweful  wrecche  creature, 

Out  of  this  prisoun  help  that  we  may  scapen. 

And  if  so  be  my  destinee  be  shapen 

By  eterne  word  to  dyen  in  prisoun, 

Of  our  linage  have  som  compassioun, 

That  is  so  lowe  y-brought  by  tirannye." 

And  with  that  word  Arcite  gan  espye 

Wher-as  this  lady  romed  to  and  fro. 

And  with  that  sighte  hir  beautee  hurte  him  so 

That,  if  that  Palamon  was  wounded  sore, 

Arcite  is  hurt  as  muche  as  he,  or  more. 

And  with  a  sigh  he  seyde  pitously, 

"The  fresshe  beautee  sleeth  me  sodeynly 

Of  hir  that  rometh  in  the  yonder  place; 

And  but  I  have  hir  mercy  and  hir  grace 

That  I  may  seen  hir  atte  leeste  weye, 

I  nam  but  deed;  ther  nis  namore  to  seye." 

This  Palamon,  whan  he  tho  wordes  herde, 
Dispitously  he  loked,  and  answerde, 
"Whether  seistow  this  in  ernest  or  in  pley?" 

"Nay,"  quod  Arcite,  "in  ernest,  by  my  fey' 
God  helpe  me  so,  me  list  ful  yvele  pleye." 

This  Palamon  gan  knitte  his  browes  tweye. 
"It  nere,"  quod  he,  "to  thee  no  greet  honour 
For  to  be  fals,  ne  for  to  be  traytour 

Sk.,  A,  1093-1130 


237-274  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  293 

To  me  that  am  thy  cosin  and  thy  brother 
Y-sworn  ful  depe,  and  ech  of  us  til  other, 
That  nevere,  for  to  dyen  in  the  peyne, 
Til  that  the  deeth  departe  shal  us  tweyne, 
Neither  of  us  in  love  to  hindren  other, 
Ne  in  non  other  cas,  my  leve  brother; 
But  that  thou  sholdest  trewely  forthren  me 
In  every  cas,  and  I  shal  forthren  thee. 
This  was  thyn  ooth  and  myn  also,  certeyn; 
I  wot  right  wel,  thou  darst  it  nat  withseyn. 
Thus  artow  of  my  counseil,  out  of  doute, 
And  now  thou  woldest  falsely  been  aboute 
To  love  my  lady,  whom  I  love  and  serve, 
And  evere  shal  til  that  myn  herte  sterve. 
Now  certes.  fals  Arcite,  thou  shalt  nat  so! 
I  loved  hir  first,  and  tolde  thee  my  wo 
As  to  my  counseil  and  my  brother  sworn 
To  forthre  me,  as  I  have  told  biforn, 
For  which  thou  art  y-bounden  as  a  knight 
To  helpen  me,  if  it  lay  in  thy  might, 
Or  elles  artow  fals,  I  dar  wel  seyn." 

This  Arcite  ful  proudly  spak  ageyn: 
"Thou  shalt,"  quod  he,  "be  rather  fals  than  I. 
But  thou  art  fals,  I  telle  thee  utterly; 
For  par  amour  I  loved  hir  first  er  thow. 
What  wiltow  seyn?  Thou  wistest  nat  yet  now 
Whether  she  be  a  womman  or  goddesse! 
Thyn  is  affeccioun  of  holinesse, 
And  myn  is  love  as  to  a  creature, 
For  which  I  tolde  thee  myn  aventure 
As  to  my  cosin  and  my  brother  sworn. 
I  pose  that  thou  lovedest  hir  biforn; 
Wostow  nat  wel  the  olde  clerkes  sawe, 
That  '  Who  shal  yeve  a  lover  any  lawe? ' 
Love  is  a  gretter  lawe,  by  my  pan, 
Than  may  be  yeve  to  any  erthly  man. 
And  therfore  positif  lawe  and  swich  decree 
Is  broke  al-day  for  love,  in  ech  degree." 

Sk.,  A,  1131-1168 


294  CHAUCER  275-312 

Greet  was  the  stryf  and  long  bitwixe  hem  tweye, 
If  that  I  hadde  leyser  for  to  seye; 
But  to  theffect.  It  happed  on  a  day — 
To  telle  it  yow  as  shortly  as  I  may — 
A  worthy  duk  that  highte  Perotheus, 
That  felawe  was  un-to  Duk  Theseus 
Sin  thilke  day  that  they  were  children  lyte, 
Was  come  to  Athenes,  his  felawe  to  visyte, 
And  for  to  pleye,  as  he  was  wont  to  do, 
For  in  this  world  he  loved  no  man  so, 
And  he  lov^d  him  as  tendrely  ageyn. 
So  wel  they  loved,  as  olde  bokes  seyn, 
That  whan  that  oon  was  deed,  sothly  to  telle, 
His  felawe  wente  and  soghte  him  doun  in  helle; 
But  of  that  storye  list  me  nat  to  wryte. 
Duk  Perotheus  loved  wel  Arcite, 
And  had  him  knowe  at  Thebes  yeer  by  yere. 
And  fynally  at  requeste  and  preyere 
Of  Perotheus,  with-oute  any  raunsoun, 
Duk  Theseus  him  leet  out  of  prisoun 
Freely  to  goon  wher  that  him  liste  over-al, 
In  swich  a  gyse  as  I  you  tellen  shal. 

This  was  the  forward,  pleynly  for  tendyte, 
Bitwixen  Theseus  and  him  Arcite: 
That  if  so  were  that  Arcite  were  y-founde 
Evere  in  his  lyf ,  by  day  or  night  or  stounde 
In  any  contree  of  this  Theseus, 
And  he  were  caught,  it  was  acorded  thus, 
That  with  a  swerd  he  sholde  lese  his  heed; 
Ther  nas  non  other  remedye  ne  reed, 
But  taketh  his  leve,  and  homward  he  him  spedde. 
Let  him  be  war,  his  nekke  lyth  to  wedde! 

How  greet  a  sorwe  suffreth  now  Arcite! 
The  deeth  he  feleth  thurgh  his  herte  smyte; 
He  wepeth,  wayleth,  cryeth  pitously; 
To  sleen  him-self  he  wayteth  prively. 
He  seyde,  "Alias  that  day  that  I  was  born! 
Now  is  my  prison  worse  than  biforn; 

Sk.,  A,  1187-1224 


313-350  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  295 

Now  is  me  shape  eternally  to  dwelle 
Noght  in  purgatorie  but  in  helle. 
Alias  that  evere  knew  I  Perotheus! 
For  elles  had  I  dwelled  with  Theseus 
Y-fetered  in  his  prisoun  evere-mo. 
Than  had  I  been  in  blisse  and  not  in  wo. 
Only  the  sighte  of  hir  whom  that  I  serve, 
Though  that  I  nevere  hir  grace  may  deserve, 
Wolde  han  suffised  right  y-nough  for  me. 

0  dere  cosin  Palamon,"  quod  he, 
"Thyn  is  the  victorie  of  this  aventure, 
Ful  blisfully  in  prison  maistow  dure! 

"Alias,  why  pleynen  folk  so  in  commune 
Of  purveyaunce  of  God  or  of  Fortune, 
That  yeveth  hem  ful  of te  in  many  a  gyse 
Wei  bettre  than  they  can  hem-self  devyse? 
Som  man  desyreth  for  to  han  richesse, 
That  cause  is  of  his  mordre  or  greet  siknesse. 
And  som  man  wolde  out  of  his  prison  fayn, 
That  in  his  hous  is  of  his  meynee  slayn. 
Infinite  harmes  been  in  this  matere; 
We  witen  nat  what  thing  we  preyen  here. 
Sin  that  I  may  nat  seen  yow,  Emelye, 

1  nam  but  deed:  ther  nis  no  remedye." 

Up-on  that  other  syde  Palamon, 
Whan  that  he  wiste  Arcite  was  agon, 
Swich  sorwe  he  maketh  that  the  grete  tour 
Resouneth  of  his  youling  and  clamour. 
The  pure  fettres  on  his  shines  grete 
Weren  of  his  bittre  salte  teres  wete. 
"Alias!"  quod  he,  "Arcita,  cosin  myn, 
Of  al  our  stryf,  God  woot,  the  fruyt  is  thyn. 
Thow  walkest  now  in  Thebes  at  thy  large, 
And  of  my  wo  thou  yevest  litel  charge. 
Thou  mayst,  sin  thou  hast  wisdom  and  manhede, 
Assemblen  all?  the  folk  of  our  kinrede, 
And  make  a  werre  so  sharp  on  this  citee 
That  by  som  aventure  01  som  tretee 

Sk.,  A,  1225-1236;  1251-1260;  1273^1288 


296  CHAUCER  351-388 

Thou  mayst  have  hir  to  lady  and  to  wyf , 
For  whom  that  I  moste  nedes  lese  my  lyf. 
For,  as  by  wey  of  possibilitee, 
Sith  thou  art  at  thy  large,  of  prison  free, 
And  art  a  lord,  greet  is  thyn  avauntage, 
More  than  is  myn  that  sterve  heer  in  a  cage. 
For  I  mot  wepe  and  wayle  whyl  I  live, 
With  al  the  wo  that  prison  may  me  yive, 
And  eek  with  peyne  that  love  me  yiveth  also 
That  doubleth  al  my  torment  and  my  wo." 
Ther-with  the  fyr  of  lelousye  up-sterte 
With-in  his  brest,  and  hente  him  by  the  herte 
So  woodly  that  he  lyk  was  to  biholde 
The  box-tree,  or  the  asshen  dede  and  colde. 
Tho  seyde  he,  "O  cruel  goddes  that  governe 
This  world  with  binding  of  your  word  eterne, 
And  wryten  in  the  table  of  athamaunt 
Your  parlement  and  your  eterne  graunt, 
What  is  mankinde  more  un-to  yow  holde 
Than  is  the  sheep  that  rouketh  in  the  folde? 
For  slayn  is  man  right  as  another  beest, 
And  dwelleth  eek  in  prison  and  arest, 
And  hath  siknesse  and  greet  adversitee, 
And  ofte  tymes  giltelees,  pardee! 

"What  governaunce  is  in  this  prescience 
That  giltelees  tormenteth  innocence? 
Alias,  I  see  a  serpent  or  a  theef, 
That  many  a  trewe  man  hath  doon  mescheef , 
Goon  at  his  large  and  wher  him  list  may  turne; 
But  I  mot  been  in  prison  thurgh  Saturne!" 

The  somer  passeth,  and  the  nightes  longe 
Encresen  double  wyse  the  peynes  stronge 
Bothe  of  the  lover  and  the  prisoner. 
I  noot  which  hath  the  wofuller  mester. 
Yow  loveres  axe  I  now  this  questioun : 
Who  hath  the  worse,  Arcite  or  Palamoun? 
That  oon  may  see  his  lady  day  by  day, 
But  in  a  prison  he  moot  dwelle  alway; 

Sk.,  A,  1289-1314;  1325-1328;  1337-1340;  1347-1350 


THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  297 

That  other  wher  him  list  may  ryde  or  go, 
But  seen  his  lady  shal  he  nevere-mo. 
Now  demeth  as  yow  liste,  ye  that  can, 
For  I  wol  telle  forth  as  I  bigan. 

Explicit  prima  pars.  Sequitur  pars  secunda. 


Whan  that  Arcite  to  Thebes  comen  was, 

Ful  ofte  a  day  he  swelte  and  seyde  "  Alias!" 

For  seen  his  lady  shal  he  nevere-mo. 

And  shortly  to  concluden  al  his  wo, 

So  muche  sorwe  had  nevere  creature 

That  is,  or  shal,  whyl  that  the  world  may  dure. 

His  sleep,  his  mete,  his  drinke,  is  him  biraft, 

That  lene  he  wex  and  drye  as  is  a  shaft. 

His  eyen  hoi  we,  and  grisly  to  biholde; 

His  hewe  falwe,  and  pale  as  asshen  colde, 

And  solitarie  he  was,  and  evere  allone, 

And  wailling  al  the  night  making  his  mone. 

And  if  he  herde  song  or  instrument, 

Then  wolde  he  wepe,  he  mighte  nat  be  stent. 

So  feble  eek  were  his  spirits  and  so  lowe, 

And  chaunged  so,  that  no  man  coude  knowe 

His  speche  nor  his  vois  though  men  it  herde. 

And  in  his  gere  for  al  the  world  he  ferde 

Nat  oonly  lyk  the  loveres  maladye 

Of  hereos,  but  rather  lyk  manye 

Engendred  of  humour  malencolyk, 

Biforen  in  his  celle  fantastyk. 

And  shortly,  turned  was  al  up-so-doun 

Bothe  habit  and  eek  disposicioun 

Of  him,  this  woful  lover  Daun  Arcite. 

What  sholde  I  al-day  of  his  wo  endyte? 
Whan  he  endured  had  a  yeer  or  two 
This  cruel  torment  and  this  peyne  and  wo 
At  Thebes  in  his  contree  as  I  seyde, 
Up-on  a  night  in  sleep  as  he  him  leyde 

Sk...  A,  1351-1384 


298  CHAUCER 


423-460 


Him  thoughte  how  that  the  winged  god  Mercuric 
Biforn  him  stood,  and  bad  him  to  be  murye. 
His  slepy  yerde  in  hond  he  bar  uprighte; 
An  hat  he  werede  up-on  his  heres  brighte. 
Arrayed  was  this  god,  as  he  took  keep, 
As  he  was  whan  that  Argus  took  his  sleep; 
And  seyde  him  thus:  "To  Athenes  shaltou  wende. 
Ther  is  thee  shapen  of  thy  wo  an  ende." 
And  with  that  word  Arcite  wook  and  sterte. 
"Now  trewely,  how  sore  that  me  smerte," 
Quod  he,  "  to  Athenes  right  now  wol  I  fare; 
Ne  for  the  drede  of  deeth  shal  I  nat  spare 
To  see  my  lady  that  I  love  and  serve. 
In  hir  presence  I  recche  nat  to  sterve." 

And  with  that  word  he  caughte  a  greet  mirour, 
And  saugh  that  chaunged  was  al  his  colour, 
And  saugh  his  visage  al  in  another  kinde. 
And  right  anoon  it  ran  him  in  his  minde 
That  sith  his  face  was  so  disfigured, 
Of  maladye,  the  which  he  had  endured, 
He  mighte  wel,  if  that  he  bar  him  lowe, 
Live  in  Athenes  evere-more  unknowe 
And  seen  his  lady  wel  ny  day  by  day. 
And  right  anon  he  chaunged  his  array, 
And  cladde  him  as  a  povre  laborer, 
And  al  allone,  save  oonly  a  squyer, 
That  knew  his  privetee  and  al  his  cas, 
Which  was  disgysed  povrely  as  he  was, 
To  Athenes  is  he  goon  the  nexte  way. 
And  to  the  court  he  wente  up-on  a  day, 
And  at  the  gate  he  profreth  his  servyse 
To  drugge  and  drawe  what  so  men  wol  devyse. 
And  shortly  of  this  matere  for  to  seyn, 
He  fil  in  office  with  a  chamberleyn, 
The  which  that  dwelling  was  with  Emelye. 
For  he  was  wys,  and  coude  soon  aspye 
Of  every  servaunt  which  that  serveth  here. 
Wel  coude  he  hewen  wode,  and  water  bere; 

Sk.,  A.  1385-1422 


-498  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  299 

For  he  was  yong  and  mighty  for  the  nones, 

And  ther-to  he  was  strong  and  big  of  bones 

To  doon  that  any  wight  can  him  devyse. 

A  yeer  or  two  he  was  in  this  servyse, 

Page  of  the  chambre  of  Emelye  the  brighte, 

And  "Philostrate"  he  seide  that  he  highte. 

But  half  so  wel  biloved  a  man  as  he 

Ne  was  ther  nevere  in  court  of  his  degree; 

He  was  so  gentil  of  condicioun 

That  thurghoute  al  the  court  was  his  renoun. 

They  seyden  that  it  were  a  charitee 

That  Theseus  wolde  enhauncen  his  degree, 

And  putten  him  in  worshipful  servyse 

Ther  as  he  mighte  his  vertu  exercyse. 

And  thus,  with-in  a  whyle,  his  name  is  spronge 

Bothe  of  his  dedes  and  his  goode  tonge, 

That  Theseus  hath  taken  him  so  neer 

That  of  his  chambre  he  made  him  a  squyer, 

And  yaf  him  gold  to  mayntene  his  degree. 

And  eek  men  broghte  him  out  of  his  contree 

From  yeer  to  yeer  ful  prively  his  rente; 

But  honestly  and  slyly  he  it  spente 

That  no  man  wondred  how  that  he  it  hadde. 

And  three  yeer  in  this  wyse  his  lyf  he  ladde, 

And  bar  him  so  in  pees  and  eek  in  werre, 

Ther  nas  no  man  that  Theseus  hath  derre. 

And  in  this  blisse  lete  I  now  Arcite, 

And  speke  I  wol  of  Palamon  a  lyte. 

In  derknesse  and  horrible  and  strong  prisoun 
This  seven  yeer  hath  seten  Palamoun, 
Forpyned  what  for  wo  and  for  distresse. 
Who  feleth  double  sore  and  hevinesse 
But  Palamon,  that  love  destreyneth  so 
That  wood  out  of  his  wit  he  gooth  for  wo? 
And  eek  therto  he  is  a  prisoner 
Perpetually,  noght  oonly  for  a  yeer. 
Who  coude  ryme  in  English  proprely 
His  martirdom?    For  so  the,  it  am  nat  I; 

Sk.,  A,  U23-1460 


300  CHAUCER  499-535 

Therfore  I  passe  as  lightly  as  I  may. 

It  fel  that  in  the  seventhe  yeer,  in  May, 
The  thridde  night  (as  olde  bokes  seyn 
That  al  this  storie  tellen  more  pleyn), 
Were  it  by  aventure  or  destinee — 
As  whan  a  thing  is  shapen  it  shal  be — 
That,  sone  after  the  midnight,  Palamoun 
By  helping  of  a  freend  brak  his  prisoun 
And  fleeth  the  citee  faste  as  he  may  go. 
For  he  had  yive  his  gayler  drinke  so 
Of  a  clarree,  maad  of  a  certeyn  wyn 
With  nercotikes  and  opie  of  Thebes  fyn, 
That  al  that  night,  thogh  that  men  wolde  him  shake, 
The  gayler  sleep,  he  mighte  nat  awake. 
And  thus  he  fleeth  as  faste  as  evere  he  may. 
The  night  was  short,  and  faste  by  the  day, 
That  nedes-cost  he  moste  him-selven  hyde, 
And  til  a  grove  faste  ther  besyde 
With  dredful  foot  than  stalketh  Palamoun. 
For  shortly  this  was  his  opinioun, 
That  in  that  grove  he  wolde  him  hyde  al  day, 
And  in  the  night  than  wolde  he  take  his  way 
To  Thebes-ward,  his  freendes  for  to  preye 
On  Theseus  to  helpe  him  to  werreye. 
And  shortly,  outher  he  wolde  lese  his  lyf , 
Or  winnen  Emelye  un-to  his  wyf. 
This  is  theffect  and  his  entente  pleyn. 

Now  wol  I  torne  un-to  Arcite  ageyn, 
That  litel  wiste  how  ny  that  was  his  care, 
Til  that  Fortune  had  broght  him  in  the  snare. 

The  bisy  larke,  messager  of  day, 
Salueth  in  hir  song  the  morwe  gray; 
And  fyry  Phebus  ryseth  up  so  bright 
That  al  the  orient  laugheth  of  the  light, 
And  with  his  stremes  dryeth  in  the  greves 
The  silver  dropes  hanging  on  the  leves. 
And  Arcite,  that  is  in  the  court  royal 
With  Theseus,  his  squyer  principal, 

Sk.,  A,  1461-1498 


;74  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  301 

Is  risen  and  loketh  on  the  myrie  day. 

And  for  to  doon  his  observaunce  to  May, 

Remembring  on  the  poynt  of  his  desyr, 

He  on  a  courser  startling  as  the  fyr 

Is  riden  in- to  the  feeldes  him  to  pleye 

Out  of  the  court,  were  it  a  myle  or  tweye. 

And  to  the  grove,  of  which  that  I  yow  tolde, 

By  aventure  his  wey  he  gan  to  holde 

To  maken  him  a  gerland  of  the  greves, 

Were  it  of  wodebinde  or  hawethorn-leves, 

And  loude  he  song  ageyn  the  sonne  shene: 

"May,  with  alle  thy  floures  and  thy  grene, 

Wei-come  be  thou,  faire  fresshe  May, 

In  hope  that  I  som  grene  gete  may." 

And  from  his  courser  with  a  lusty  herte 

In-to  the  grove  ful  hastily  he  sterte, 

And  in  a  path  he  rometh  up  and  doun, 

Ther-as  by  aventure  this  Palamoun 

Was  in  a  bush  that  no  man  mighte  him  see, 

For  sore  afered  of  his  deeth  was  he. 

No- thing  ne  knew  he  that  it  was  Arcite: 

God  wot  he  wolde  have  trowed  it  ful  lyte. 

But  sooth  is  seyd,  gon  sithen  many  yeres, 

That  "Feeld  hath  eyen,  and  the  wode  hath  eres." 

It  is  ful  fair  a  man  to  bere  him  evene, 

For  al-day  meteth  men  at  unset  stevene. 

Ful  litel  woot  Arcite  of  his  felawe, 

That  was  so  ny  to  herknen  al  his  sawe, 

For  in  the  bush  he  sitteth  now  ful  stille. 

Whan  that  Arcite  had  romed  al  his  fille, 
And  songen  al  the  roundel  lustily, 
In-to  a  studie  he  fil  sodeynly 
As  doon  thise  loveres  in  hir  queynte  geres, 
Now  in  the  croppe,  now  doun  in  the  breres, 
Now  up,  now  doun,  as  boket  in  a  welle. 
Right  as  the  Friday,  soothly  for  to  telle, 
Now  it  shyneth,  now  it  reyneth  faste, 
Right  so  can  gery  Venus  overcaste 

Sk.,  A,  1499-1536 


302  CHAUCER  575-612 

The  hertes  of  hir  folk;  right  as  hir  day 
Is  gerful,  right  so  chaungeth  she  array. 
Selde  is  the  Friday  al  the  wyke  y-lyke. 
Whan  that  Arcite  had  songe,  he  gan  to  syke, 
And  sette  him  doun  with-outen  any  more. 
"Alas!"  quod  he,  "that  day  that  I  was  bore! 
How  longe,  luno,  thurgh  thy  cruel  tee, 
Woltow  werreyen  Thebes  the  citee? 
Alias!  y-broght  is  to  confusioun 
The  blood  royal  of  Cadme  and  Amphioun. 
And  yet  doth  luno  me  wel  more  shame, 
For  I  dar  noght  biknowe  myn  owne  name; 
But  ther-as  I  was  wont  to  highte  Arcite, 
•    Now  highte  I  Philostrate,  noght  worth  a  myte. 
And  over  al  this,  to  sleen  me  utterly, 
Love  hath  his  fyry  darte  so  brenningly 
Y-stiked  thurgh  my  trewe  careful  herte, 
That  shapen  was  my  deeth  erst  than  my  sherte. 
Ye  sleen  me  with  your  eyen,  Emelye: 
Ye  been  the  cause  wherfore  that  I  dye. 
Of  al  the  remenaunt  of  myn  other  care 
Ne  sette  I  nat  the  mountaunce  of  a  tare, 
So  that  I  coude  don  aught  to  your  plesaunce!" 
And  with  that  word  he  fil  doun  in  a  traunce 
A  longe  tyme;  and  after  he  up-sterte. 

This  Palamoun,  that  thoughte  that  thurgh  his  herte 
He  felte  a  cold  swerd  sodeynliche  glyde, 
For  ire  he  quook,  no  lenger  wolde  he  byde. 
And  whan  that  he  had  herd  Arcites  tale, 
As  he  were  wood,  with  face  deed  and  pale, 
He  sterte  him  up  out  of  the  buskes  thikke, 
And  seyde,  "Arcite,  false  traitour  wikke, 
Now  artow  hent,  that  lovest  my  lady  so, 
For  whom  that  I  have  al  this  peyne  and  wo, 
And  art  my  blood,  and  to  my  counseil  sworn, 
As  I  ful  ofte  have  told  thee  heer-biforn, 
And  hast  by-iaped  heer  Duk  Theseus, 
And  falsly  chaunged  hast  thy  name  thus: 

Sk.,  A,  1538-1546;  1555-1558;  1563-1586 


>5o  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  303 

I  wol  be  deed  or  elles  thou  shalt  dye. 

Thou  shalt  nat  love  my  lady  Emelye, 

But  I  wol  love  hir  only,  and  namo; 

For  I  am  Palamoun,  thy  mortal  fo. 

And  though  that  I  no  wepne  have  in  this  place, 

But  out  of  prison  am  astert  by  grace, 

I  drede  noght  that  outher  thou  shalt  dye, 

Or  thou  ne  shalt  nat  loven  Emelye. 

Chees  which  thou  wilt,  for  thou  shalt  nat  asterte." 

This  Arcite,  with  ful  despitous  herte, 
Whan  he  him  knew,  and  had  his  tale  herd, 
As  fiers  as  leoun  pulled  oute  a  swerd, 
And  seyde  thus:    "By  God  that  sit  above, 
Nere  it  that  thou  art  sik  and  wood  for  love, 
And  eek  that  thou  no  wepne  hast  in  this  place, 
Thou  sholdest  nevere  out  of  this  grove  pace, 
That  thou  ne  sholdest  dyen  of  myn  hond. 
For  I  defye  the  seurtee  and  the  bond 
Which  that  thou  seyst  that  I  have  maad  to  thee. 
What,  verray  fool,  think  wel  that  love  is  free, 
And  I  wol  love  hir  maugre  al  thy  might! 
But  for  as  muche  as  thou  art  a  worthy  knight, 
And  wilnest  to  darreyne  hir  by  batayle, 
Have  heer  my  trouthe,  to-morwe  I  wol  nat  fayle, 
With-outen  witing  of  any  other  wight, 
That  heer  I  wol  be  founden  as  a  knight, 
And  bringen  harneys  right  y-nough  for  thee; 
And  chees  the  beste,  and  leve  the  worste  for  me. 
And  mete  and  drinke  this  night  wol  I  bringe 
Y-nough  for  thee,  and  clothes  for  thy  beddinge. 
And  if  so  be  that  thou  my  lady  winne, 
And  slee  me  in  this  wode  ther  I  am  inne, 
Thou  mayst  wel  have  thy  lady,  as  for  me." 
This  Palamon  answerde,  "I  graunte  thee." 
And  thus  they  been  departed  til  a-morwe, 
When  ech  of  hem  had  leyd  his  feith  to  borwe. 

O  Cupide,  out  of  alle  charitee! 
O  regne,  that  wolt  no  felawe  have  with  thee! 

Sk.,  A,  1587-1624 


304  CHAUCER  551-688 

Ful  sooth  is  seyd,  that  love  ne  lordshipe 
Wol  noght,  his  thankes,  have  no  felaweshipe; 
Wei  finden  that  Arcite  and  Palamoun. 
Arcite  is  riden  anon  un-to  the  toun, 
And  on  the  morwe  er  it  were  dayes  light, 
Ful  prively  two  harneys  hath  he  dight, 
Bothe  suffisaunt  and  mete  to  darreyne 
The  bataille  in  the  feeld  bitwix  hem  tweyne, 
And  on  his  hors,  allone  as  he  was  born, 
He  carieth  al  this  harneys  him  biforn; 
And  in  the  grove,  at  tyme  and  place  y-set, 
This  Arcite  and  this  Palamon  ben  met. 

The  destinee,  ministre  general, 
That  executeth  in  the  world  over-al 
The  purveyaunce  that  God  hath  seyn  biforn, 
So  strong  it  is  that  though  the  world  had  sworn 
The  contrarie  of  a  thing  by  ye  or  nay, 
Yet  somtyme  it  shal  fallen  on  a  day 
That  falleth  nat  eft  with-in  a  thousand  yeer. 
For  certeinly,  our  appetytes  heer, 
Be  it  of  werre  or  pees  or  hate  or  love, 
Al  this  is  reuled  by  the  sighte  above. 
This  mene  I  now  by  mighty  Theseus, 
That  for  to  hunten  is  so  desirous, 
And  namely  at  the  grete  hert  in  May, 
That  in  his  bed  ther  daweth  him  no  day 
That  he  nis  clad  and  redy  for  to  ryde 
With  hunte  and  horn,  and  houndes  him  bisyde. 
For  in  his  hunting  hath  he  swich  delyt 
That  it  is  al  his  loye  and  appetyt 
To  been  him-self  the  grete  hertes  bane; 
For  after  Mars  he  serveth  now  Diane. 

Cleer  was  the  day,  as  I  have  told  er  this, 
And  Theseus  with  alle  loye  and  blis 
With  his  Ipolita,  the  faire  quene, 
And  Emelye,  clothed  al  in  grene, 
On  hunting  be  they  riden  royally. 
And  to  the  grove  that  stood  ful  faste  by, 

Sk.,  A,  1625-1636;  1663-1688 


726  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  305 

In  which  ther  was  an  hert,  as  men  him  tolde, 
Duk  Theseus  the  streighte  wey  hath  holde. 
And  to  the  launde  he  rydeth  him  ful  right; 
For  thider  was  the  hert  wont  have  his  flight, 
And  over  a  brook,  and  so  forth  on  his  weye. 
This  duk  wol  han  a  cours  at  him  or  tweye, 
With  houndes  swiche  as  that  him  list  comaunde. 

And  whan  this  duk  was  come  un-to  the  launde, 
Under  the  sonne  he  loketh,  and  anon 
He  was  war  of  Arcite  and  Palamon, 
That  foughten  breme  as  it  were  bores  two. 
The  brighte  swerdes  wenten  to  and  fro 
So  hidously  that  with  the  leeste  strook 
It  semed  as  it  wolde  felle  an  ook; 
But  what  they  were,  no-thing  he  ne  woot. 
This  duk  his  courser  with  his  spores  smoot, 
And  at  a  stert  he  was  bitwix  hem  two, 
And  pulled  oute  a  swerd  and  cryed,  "Ho! 
Namore,  up  peyne  of  lesing  of  your  heed. 
By  mighty  Mars,  he  shal  anon  be  deed 
That  smyteth  any  strook  that  I  may  seen! 
But  telleth  me  what  mister  men  ye  been, 
That  been  so  hardy  for  to  fighten  heer 
With-outen  luge  or  other  officer, 
As  it  were  in  a  listes  royally?" 

This  Palamon  answerde  hastily, 
And  seyde,  "Sir,  what  nedeth  wordes  mo? 
We  have  the  deeth  deserved  bothe  two. 
Two  woful  wrecches  been  we,  two  caytyves. 
That  been  encombred  of  our  owne  lyves; 
And  as  thou  art  a  rightful  lord  and  luge, 
Ne  yif  us  neither  mercy  ne  refuge, 
But  slee  me  first,  for  seynte  charitee; 
But  slee  my  felawe  eek  as  wel  as  me. 
Or  slee  him  first;  for  though  thou  knowe  it  lyte, 
This  is  thy  mortal  fo,  this  is  Arcite, 
That  fro  thy  lond  is  banished  on  his  heed, 
For  which  he  hath  deserved  to  be  deed. 

Sk.,  A,  1689-1726 


306  CHAUCER  727-754 

For  this  is  he  that  cam  un-to  thy  gate, 

And  seyde  that  he  highte  Philostrate. 

Thus  hath  he  laped  thee  ful  many  a  yeer, 

And  thou  hast  maked  him  thy  chief  squyer; 

And  this  is  he  that  loveth  Emelye. 

For  sith  the  day  is  come  that  I  shal  dye, 

I  make  pleynly  my  confessioun 

That  I  am  thilke  woful  Palamoun 

That  hath  thy  prison  broken  wikkedly. 

I  am  thy  mortal  fo,  and  it  am  I 

That  loveth  so  hote  Emelye  the  brighte 

That  I  wol  dye  present  in  hir  sighte. 

Therfore  I  axe  deeth  and  my  luwyse; 

But  slee  my  felawe  in  the  same  wyse, 

For  bothe  han  we  deserved  to  be  slayn." 

This  worthy  duk  answerde  anon  agayn, 
And  seyde,  "This  is  a  short  conclusioun: 
Your  owne  mouth  by  your  confessioun 
Hath  dampned  you,  and  I  wol  it  recorde. 
It  nedeth  noght  to  pyne  yow  with  the  corde. 
Ye  shul  be  deed,  by  mighty  Mars  the  rede!" 

The  quene  anon,  for  verray  wommanhede, 
Gan  for  to  wepe,  and  so  did  Emelye, 
And  alle  the  ladies  in  the  companye. 
Gret  pitee  was  it,  as  it  thoughte  hem  alle, 
That  evere  swich  a  chaunce  sholde  falle; 
For  gentil  men  they  were,  of  greet  estat, 
And  no-thing  but  for  love  was  this  debat. 
And  sawe  hir  blody  woundes  wyde  and  sore, 
And  alle  cryden,  bothe  lasse  and  more, 
"Have  mercy,  lord,  up-on  us  wommen  alle!" 
And  on  hir  bare  knees  adoun  they  falle, 
And  wolde  have  kist  his  feet  ther-as  he  stood, 
Til  at  the  laste  aslaked  was  his  mood; 
For  pitee  renneth  sone  in  gentil  herte. 
And  though  he  first  for  ire  quook  and  sterte, 
He  hath  considered  shortly  in  a  clause 
The  trespas  of  hem  bothe,  and  eek  the  cause. 

Sk.,  A,  1727-1764 


765-802  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  307 

And  al-though  that  his  ire  hir  gilt  accused, 

Yet  in  his  reson  he  hem  bothe  excused; 

As  thus:  he  thoghte  wel  that  every  man 

Wol  helpe  him-self  in  love  if  that  he  can, 

And  eek  delivere  him-self  out  of  prisoun; 

And  eek  his  herte  had  compassioun 

Of  wommen,  for  they  wepen  evere  in  oon; 

And  in  his  gentil  herte  he  thoghte  anoon, 

And  softe  un-to  him-self  he  seyde,  "Fy 

Up-on  a  lord  that  wol  have  no  mercy! 

But  been  a  leoun  bothe  in  word  and  dede 

To  hem  that  been  in  repentaunce  and  drede 

As  wel  as  to  a  proud  despitous  man 

That  wol  maynteyne  that  he  first  bigan! 

That  lord  hath  litel  of  discrecioun 

That  in  swich  cas  can  no  divisioun 

But  weyeth  pryde  and  humblesse  after  oon." 

And  shortly  whan  his  ire  is  thus  agoon, 

He  gan  to  loken  up  with  eyen  lighte, 

And  spak  thise  same  wordes  al  on  highte: 

"The  God  of  Love,  a!  benedicite! 

How  mighty  and  how  greet  a  lord  is  he! 

Lo  heer,  this  Arcite  and  this  Palamoun, 

That  quitly  weren  out  of  my  prisoun, 

And  mighte  han  lived  in  Thebes  royally, 

And  witen  I  am  hir  mortal  enemy, 

And  that  hir  deeth  lyth  in  my  might  also, 

And  yet  hath  Love,  maugree  hir  eyen  two, 

Y-broght  hem  hider  bothe  for  to  dye! 

Now  loketh,  is  nat  that  an  heigh  folye? 

Who  may  been  a  fool  but-if  he  love? 

Bihold,  for  Goddes  sake  that  sit  above, 

Se  how  they  blede!  Be  they  noght  wel  arrayed? 

Thus  hath  hir  lord,  the  God  of  Love,  y-payed 

Hir  wages  and  hir  fees  for  hir  servyse! 

And  yet  they  wenen  for  to  been  ful  wyse 

That  serven  Love,  for  aught  that  may  bifalle! 

But  this  is  yet  the  beste  game  of  alle, 

Sk.,  A,  1765-1786;  1791-1806 


308  CHAUCER  803-840 

That  she,  for  whom  they  han  this  lolitee, 

Can  hem  ther-fore  as  muche  thank  as  me; 

She  woot  namore  of  al  this  hote  fare, 

By  God,  than  woot  a  cokkow  or  an  hare ! 

But  al  mot  been  assayed,  hoot  or  cold; 

A  man  mot  been  a  fool,  or  yong  or  old : 

I  woot  it  by  my-self  ful  yore  agoon; 

For  in  my  tyme  a  servant  was  I  oon. 

And  therfore  sin  I  knowe  of  Loves  peyne, 

And  woot  how  sore  it  can  a  man  distreyne, 

As  he  that  hath  ben  caught  of  te  in  his  las, 

I  yow  foryeve  al  hoolly  this  trespas 

At  requeste  of  the  quene  that  kneleth  here, 

And  eek  of  Emelye,  my  suster  dere. 

And  ye  shul  bothe  anon  un-to  me  swere 

That  nevere-mo  ye  shul  my  contree  dere, 

Ne  make  werre  up-on  me  night  ne  day, 

But  been  my  freendes  in  al  that  ye  may; 

I  yow  foryeve  this  trespas  every  del." 

And  they  him  swore  his  axing  fay  re  and  wel, 

And  him  of  lordshipe  and  of  mercy  preyde, 

And  he  hem  graunteth  grace,  and  thus  he  seyde: 

"To  speke  of  royal  linage  and  richesse, 
Though  that  she  were  a  quene  or  a  princesse, 
Ech  of  yow  bothe  is  worthy,  doutelees, 
To  wedden  whan  tyme  is,  but  nathelees 
I  speke  as  for  my  suster  Emelye, 
For  whom  ye  have  this  stryf  and  lelousye. 
Ye  woot  your-self  she  may  not  vvedden  two 
At  ones,  though  ye  tighten  evere-mo; 
That  oon  of  yow,  al  be  him  looth  or  leef , 
He  moot  go  pypen  in  an  ivy-leef. 
And  for-thy  I  yow  putte  in  this  degree, 
That  ech  of  yow  shal  have  his  destinee 
As  him  is  shape;  and  herkneth  in  what  wyse. 
Lo,  heer  your  ende  of  that  I  shal  devyse. 

"My  wille  is  this,  for  plat  conclusioun, 
With-outen  any  replicacioun, — 

Sk.,  A,  1807-1838;  1841-1846 


841-874  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  309 

If  that  yow  lyketh,  tak  it  for  the  beste— 
That  everich  of  yow  shal  gon  wher  him  leste  . 
Frely,  with-outen  raunsoun  or  daunger, 
And  this  day  fifty  wykes,  fer  ne  ner, 
Everich  of  yow  shal  bringe  an  hundred  knightes, 
Armed  for  listes  up  at  alle  rightes, 
Al  redy  to  darreyne  hir  by  bataille. 
And  this  bihote  I  yow  with-outen  faille 
Up-on  my  trouthe  and  as  I  am  a  knight, 
That  whether  of  yow  bothe  that  hath  might, 
This  is  to  seyn,  that  whether  he  or  thou 
May  with  his  hundred,  as  I  spak  of  now, 
Sleen  his  contrarie  or  out  of  listes  dryve, 
Him  shal  I  yeve  Emelya  to  wyve. 
This  is  your  ende  and  your  conclusioun." 
Who  loketh  lightly  now  but  Palamoun? 
Who  springeth  up  for  loye  but  Arcite? 
Who  couthe  telle,  or  who  couthe  it  endyte, 
The  loye  that  is  maked  in  the  place 
Whan  Theseus  hath  doon  so  fair  a  grace? 
But  doun  on  knees  wente  every  maner  wight, 
And  thanked  him  with  al  her  herte  and  might, 
And  namely  the  Thebans  ofte  sythe. 
And  thus  with  good  hope  and  with  herte  blythe 
They  take  hir  leve,  and  horn-ward  gonne.  they  ryde 
To  Thebes,  with  his  olde  walles  wyde. 

Explicit  secunda  pars.    Sequitur  pars  tercia. 


I  trowe  men  wolde  deme  it  necligence, 
If  I  foryete  to  tellen  the  dispence 
Of  Theseus,  that  goth  so  bisily 
To  maken  up  the  listes  royally, 
That  swich  a  noble  theatre  as  it  was 
I  dar  wel  seyn  that  in  this  world  ther  nas. 
The  circuit  a  myle  was  aboute, 
Walled  of  stoon,  and  diched  al  with-oute. 

Sk.,  A,  1847-1860;  1869-1888 


310  CHAUCER  875-912 

Round  was  the  shap  in  manere  of  compas, 
Ful  of  degrees  the  heighte  of  sixty  pas, 
That  whan  a  man  was  set  on  o  degree 
He  lette  nat  his  felawe  for  to  see. 

Est-ward  ther  stood  a  gate  of  marbel  whyt, 
West-ward  right  swich  another  in  the  opposit. 
And  shortly  to  concluden,  swich  a  place 
Was  noon  in  erthe  as  in  so  litel  space; 
For  in  the  lond  ther  nas  no  crafty  man, 
That  geometric  or  ars-metrik  can, 
Ne  purtreyour  ne  kerver  of  images, 
That  Theseus  ne  yaf  him  mete  and  wages 
The  theatre  for  to  maken  and  devyse. 
And  for  to  doon  his  ryte  and  sacrifyse, 
He  est-ward  hath  up-on  the  gate  above 
In  worship  of  Venus,  goddesse  of  love, 
Don  make  an  auter  and  an  oratorie; 
And  west-ward,  in  the  minde  and  in  memorie 
Of  Mars,  he  maked  hath  right  swich  another, 
That  coste  largely  of  gold  a  fother. 
And  north-ward  in  a  touret  on  the  wal, 
Of  alabastre  whyt  and  reed  coral 
An  oratorie  riche  for  to  see 
In  worship  of  Dyane  of  chastitee 
Hath  Theseus  don  wroght  in  noble  wyse. 

But  yet  had  I  foryeten  to  devyse 
The  noble  kerving  and  the  portreitures, 
The  shap,  the  countenaunce,  and  the  figures, 
That  weren  in  thise  oratories  three. 

First  in  the  temple  of  Venus  maystow  see 
Wroght  on  the  wal,  ful  pitous  to  biholde, 
The  broken  slepes  and  the  sykes  colde, 
The  sacred  teres  and  the  waymentinge, 
The  fyry  strokes  of  the  desiringe 
That  Loves  servaunts  in  this  lyf  enduren, 
The  othes  that  hir  covenants  assuren, 
Plesaunce  and  Hope,  Desyr,  Fool-hardinesse, 
Beautee  and  Youthe,  Bauderie,  Richesse, 

Sk.,  A,  1889-1926 


913-950  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  311 

Charmes  and  Fore?,  Lesinges,  Flaterye, 
Dispense,  Disynesse,  and  lelousye 
That  wered  of  yelwe  goldes  a  gerland, 
And  a  cokkow  sitting  on  hir  hand, 
Festes,  instruments,  caroles,  daunces, 
Lust  and  Array,  and  alle  the  circumstaunces 
Of  love  which  that  I  rekne  and  rekne  shal, 
By  ordre  weren  peynted  on  the  wal, 
And  mo  than  I  can  make  of  mencioun. 
For  soothly  al  the  mount  of  Citheroun, 
Ther  Venus  hath  hir  principal  dwellinge, 
Was  shewed  on  the  wal  in  portreyinge, 
With  al  the  gardin  and  the  lustinesse. 
Nat  was  foryeten  the  porter  Ydelnesse, 
Ne  Narcisus  the  faire  of  yore  agon, 
Ne  yet  the  folye  of  King  Salamon. 

The  statue  of  Venus,  glorious  for  to  see, 
Was  naked  fleting  in  the  large  see, 
And  fro  the  navele  doun  al  covered  was 
With  wawes  grene,  and  brighte  as  any  glas. 
A  citole  in  hir  right  hand  hadde  she, 
And  on  hir  heed,  ful  semely  for  to  see, 
A  rose  gerland,  fresh  and  wel  smellinge; 
Above  hir  heed  hir  dowves  flikeringe. 
Biforn  hir  stood  hir  sone  Cupido, 
Up-on  his  shuldres  winges  had  he  two; 
And  blind  he  was  as  it  is  ofte  sene; 
A  bowe  he  bar  and  arwes  brighte  and  kene. 

Why  sholde  I  noght  as  wel  eek  telle  yow  al 
The  portreiture  that  was  up-on  the  wal 
With-in  the  temple  of  mighty  Mars  the  rede? 
Al  peynted  was  the  wal  in  lengthe  and  brede 
Lyk  to  the  estres  of  the  grisly  place 
That  highte  the  grete  temple  of  Mars  in  Trace, 
In  thilke  colde  frosty  regioun 
Ther-as  Mars  hath  his  sovereyn  mansioun. 

First  on  the  wal  was  peynted  a  forest 
In  which  ther  dwelleth  neither  man  ne  beest, 

Sk.,  A, 1927-1942;  1955-1976 


312  CHAUCER  951-988 

With  knotty,  knarry,  bareyn  trees  olde 
Of  stubbes  sharpe  and  hidous  to  biholde, 
In  which  ther  ran  a  rumbel  and  a  swough 
As  though  a  storm  sholde  bresten  every  bough. 
And  downward  from  an  hil,  under  a  bente, 
Ther  stood  the  temple  of  Mars  armipotente, 
Wroght  al  of  burned  steel,  of  which  thentree 
Was  long  and  streit,  and  gastly  for  to  see. 
And  ther-oute  cam  a  rage  and  such  a  vese 
That  it  made  al  the  gates  for  to  rese. 
The  northren  light  in  at  the  dores  shoon; 
For  windowe  on  the  wal  ne  was  ther  noon 
Thurgh  which  men  mighten  any  light  discerne. 
The  dores  were  alle  of  adamant  eterne, 
Y-clenched  overthwart  and  endelong 
With  iren  tough;  and  for  to  make  it  strong, 
Every  piler  the  temple  to  sustene 
Was  tonne-greet  of  iren  bright  and  shene. 
Ther  saugh  I  first  the  derke  imagininge 
Of  Felonye,  and  al  the  compassinge; 
The  cruel  Ire  reed  as  any  glede; 
The  pykepurs,  and  eek  the  pale  Drede; 
The  smyler  with  the  knyf  under  the  cloke; 
The  shepne  brenning  with  the  blake  smoke; 
The  treson  of  the  mordring  in  the  bed; 
The  open  Werre  with  woundes  al  bi-bled; 
Contek,  with  blody  knyf  and  sharp  manace; 
Al  ful  of  chirking  was  that  sory  place. 
The  sleer  of  him-self  yet  saugh  I  ther, 
His  herte-blood  hath  bathed  al  his  heer; 
The  nayl  y-driven  in  the  shode  a-night; 
The  colde  Deeth  with  mouth  gaping  up-right. 
Amiddes  of  the  temple  sat  Meschaunce 
With  Disconfort  and  Sory  Contenaunce. 
Yet  saugh  I  Woodnesse  laughing  in  his  rage; 
Armed  Compleinte,  Out-hees,  and  fiers  Outrage. 
The  careyne  in  the  bush  with  throte  y-corve; 
A  thousand  slayn,  and  nat  of  qualm  y-storve; 

Sk.,  A,  1977-2014 


989-1026 


THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  313 


The  tiraunt  with  the  preye  by  force  y-raft; 
The  toun  destroyed,  ther  was  no-thing  laf t. 

The  statue  of  Mars  up-on  a  carte  stood, 
Armed,  and  loked  grim  as  he  were  wood. 
And  over  his  heed  ther  shynen  two  figures 
Of  sterres,  that  been  cleped  in  scriptures 
That  oon  Puella,  that  other  Rubeus. 
This  god  of  armes  was  arrayed  thus: 
A  wolf  ther  stood  biforn  him  at  his  feet 
With  eyen  rede,  and  of  a  man  he  eet; 
With  sotil  pencel  was  depeynt  this  storie 
In  redouting  of  Mars  and  of  his  glorie. 

Now  to  the  temple  of  Diane  the  chaste 
As  shortly  as  I  can  I  wol  me  haste 
To  telle  yow  al  the  descripcioun. 
Depeynted  been  the  walles  up  and  doun 
Of  hunting  and  of  shamfast  chastitee. 
Ther  saugh  I  how  woful  Calistopee, 
Whan  that  Diane  agreved  was  with  here, 
Was  turned  from  a  womman  til  a  bere, 
And  after  was  she  maad  the  lode-sterre; 
Thus  was  it  peynted,  I  can  say  yow  no  f erre. 
Hir  sone  is  eek  a  sterre,  as  men  may  see. 
Ther  saugh  I  Dane,  y- turned  til  a  tree: 
I  mene  nat  the  goddesse  Diane, 
But  Penneus  doughter  which  that  highte  Dane. 
Ther  saugh  I  Attheon  an  hert  y-maked, 
For  vengeaunce  that  he  saugh  Diane  al  naked; 
I  saugh  how  that  his  houndes  have  him  caught 
And  freten  him,  for  that  they  knewe  him  naught. 
Yet  peynted  was  a  litel  forther-moor, 
How  Atthalante  hunted  the  wilde  boor, 
And  Meleagre  and  many  another  mo, 
For  which  Diane  wroghte  him  care  and  wo. 
Ther  saugh  I  many  another  wonder  storie, 
The  which  me  list  nat  drawen  to  memorie. 

This  goddesse  on  an  hert  f  ul  hye  sect, 
With  smale  houndes  al  aboute  hir  feet; 

Sk.,  A,  2015-2016;  2041-2076 


314  CHAUCER  1027-1054 

And  undernethe  hir  feet  she  had  a  mone, 

Wexing  it  was  and  sholde  wanie  sone. 

In  gaude  grene  hir  statue  clothed  was, 

With  bowe  in  honde,  and  arwes  in  a  cas. 

Hir  eyen  caste  she  ful  lowe  adoun, 

Ther  Pluto  hath  his  derke  regioun. 

A  womman  travailing  was  hir  biforn, 

But  for  hir  child  so  longe  was  unborn 

Ful  pitously  Lucyna  gan  she  calle, 

And  seyde,  "Help,  for  thou  mayst  best  of  alle! " 

Wei  couthe  he  peynten  lyfly  that  it  wroghte, 

With  many  a  florin  he  the  hewes  boghte. 

Now  been  thise  listes  maad,  and  Theseus, 
That  at  his  grete  cost  arrayed  thus 
The  temples  and  the  theatre  every  del, 
Whan  it  was  doon,  him  lyked  wonder  wel. 
But  stinte  I  wol  of  Theseus  a  lyte, 
And  speke  of  Palamon  and  of  Arcite. 

The  day  approcheth  of  hir  retorninge, 
That  everich  sholde  an  hundred  knightes  bringe 
The  bataille  to  darreyne,  as  I  yow  tolde; 
And  til  Athenes,  hir  covenant  to  holde, 
Hath  everich  of  hem  broght  an  hundred  knightes 
Wel  armed  for  the  werre  at  alle  rightes, 
Everich  after  his  opinioun. 

Ther  maistow  seen  coming  with  Palamoun 
Ligurge  him-self,  the  grete  king  of  Trace. 
Blak  was  his  berd,  and  manly  was  his  face; 
The  cercles  of  his  eyen  in  his  heed, 
They  gloweden  bitwixe  yelow  and  reed; 
And  lyk  a  griffon  loked  he  aboute 
With  kempe  heres  on  his  browes  stoute; 
His  limes  grete,  his  braunes  harde  and  stronge, 
His  shuldres  brode,  his  armes  rounde  and  longe. 
And  as  the  gyse  was  in  his  contree, 
Ful  hye  up-on  a  char  of  gold  stood  he, 
With  foure  whyte  boles  in  the  trays. 
In-stede  of  cote-armure  over  his  harnays, 

Sk.,  A,  2077-2100;  2127-2140 


1065-1102          THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  315 

With  nayles  yelwe  and  brighte  as  any  gold 

He  had  a  beres  skin,  col-blak  for  old. 

His  longe  heer  was  kembd  bihinde  his  bak, 

As  any  ravenes  f ether  it  shoon  for  blak; 

A  wreeth  of  gold  arm-greet,  of  huge  wighte, 

Upon  his  heed,  set  ful  of  stones  brighte, 

Of  fyne  rubies  and  of  dyamaunts. 

Aboute  his  char  ther  wenten  whyte  alaunts, 

Twenty  and  mo,  as  grete  as  any  steer, 

To  hunten  at  the  leoun  or  the  deer, 

And  folwed  him  with  mosel  faste  y-bounde, 

Colers  of  gold,  and  torets  fyled  rounde. 

An  hundred  lordes  had  he  in  his  route 

Armed  ful  wel,  with  hertes  sterne  and  stoute. 

With  Arcita,  in  stories  as  men  finde, 
The  grete  Emetreus,  the  king  of  Inde, 
Up-on  a  stede  bay,  trapped  in  steel, 
Covered  in  cloth  of  gold  diapred  weel, 
Cam  ryding  lyk  the  god  of  armes,  Mars. 
His  cote-armure  was  of  cloth  of  Tars, 
Couched  with  perles  whyte  and  rounde  and  grete. 
His  sadel  was  of  brend  gold  newe  y-bete; 
A  mantelet  upon  his  shuldre  hanginge 
Bret-ful  of  rubies  rede,  as  fyr  sparklinge. 
His  crispe  heer  lyk  ringes  was  y-ronne, 
And  that  was  yelow,  and  glitered  as  the  sonne. 
His  nose  was  heigh,  his  eyen  bright  citryn, 
His  lippes  rounde,  his  colour  was  sangwyn, 
A  fewe  fraknes  in  his  face  y-spreynd, 
Betwixen  yelow  and  somdel  blak  y-meynd, 
And  as  a  leoun  he  his  loking  caste. 
Of  fyve  and  twenty  yeer  his  age  I  caste. 
His  berd  was  wel  bigonne  for  to  springe; 
His  voys  was  as  a  trompe  thunderinge. 
Up-on  his  heed  he  wered  of  laurer  grene 
A  gerland  freshe  and  lusty  for  to  sene. 
Up-on  his  hand  he  bar  for  his  deduyt 
An  egle  tame,  as  any  lilie  whyt. 

Sk.,  A,  2141-2178 


316  CHAUCER 


1103-1140 


An  hundred  lordes  had  he  with  him  there, 
Al  armed,  sauf  hir  heddes,  in  al  hir  gere 
Ful  richely  in  alle  maner  thinges. 
For  trusteth  wel  that  dukes,  erles,  kinges, 
Were  gadered  in  this  noble  companye 
For  love  and  for  encrees  of  chivalrye. 
Aboute  this  king  ther  ran  on  every  part 
Ful  many  a  tame  leoun  and  lepart. 
And  in  this  wyse  thise  lordes  alle  and  some 
Ben  on  the  Sonday  to  the  citee  come 
Aboute  pryme,  and  in  the  toun  alight. 

This  Theseus,  this  duk,  this  worthy  knight, 
Whan  he  had  broght  hem  in-to  his  citee, 
And  inned  hem,  everich  in  his  degree, 
He  festeth  hem  and  dooth  so  greet  labour 
To  esen  hem,  and  doon  hem  al  honour, 
That  yet  men  weneth  that  no  mannes  wit 
Of  noon  estat  ne  coude  amenden  it. 

The  Sonday  night,  er  day  bigan  to  springe, 
When  Palamon  the  larke  herde  singe — 
Although  it  nere.  nat  day  by  houres  two, 
Yet  song  the  larke  and  Palamon  also — 
With  holy  herte  and  with  an  heigh  corage 
He  roos  to  wenden  on  his  pilgrimage 
Un-to  the  blisful  Citherea  benigne, 
I  mene  Venus,  honurable  and  digne. 
And  in  hir  houre  he  walketh  forth  a  pas 
Un-to  the  listes  ther  hir  temple  was, 
And  doun  he  kneleth,  and  with  humble  chere 
And  herte  soor  he  seyde  as  ye  shul  here. 

"Fairest  of  faire,  O  lady  myn,  Venus, 
Doughter  to  love  and  spouse  of  Vulcanus, 
Thou  glader  of  the  mount  of  Citheroun, 
For  thilke  love  thou  haddest  to  Adoun, 
Have  pitee  of  my  bittre  teres  smerte, 
And  tak  myn  humble  preyere  at  thyn  herte. 
Alias !  I  ne  have  no  langage  to  telle 
Theffectes  ne  the  torments  of  myn  helle. 

Sk.,  A,  2179-2196;  2209-2228 


1141-1178          THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  317 

Myn  herte  may  myne  harmes  nat  biwreye; 
I  am  so  confus  that  I  can  noght  seye. 
But  mercy,  lady  bright,  that  knowest  weel 
My  thought,  and  seest  what  harmes  that  I  feel, 
Considere  al  this,  and  rewe  up-on  my  sore, 
As  wisly  as  I  shal  for  everemore 
Emforth  my  might  thy  trewe  servant  be, 
And  holden  werre  alwey  with  chastitee. 
That  make  I  myn  avow,  so  ye  me  helpe. 
I  kepe  noght  of  armes  for  to  yelpe, 
Ne  I  ne  axe  nat  to-morwe  to  have  victorie 
Ne  renoun  in  this  cas,  ne  veyne  glorie 
Of  pris  of  armes  blowen  up  and  doun, 
But  I  wolde  have  fully  possessioun 
Of  Emelye  and  dye  in  thy  servyse. 
Find  thou  the  manere  how  and  in  what  wyse. 
I  recche  nat,  but  it  may  bettre  be, 
To  have  victorie  of  hem  or  they  of  me, 
So  that  I  have  my  lady  in  myne  armes. 
For  though  so  be  that  Mars  is  god  of  armes, 
Your  vertu  is  so  greet  in  hevene  above 
That  if  yow  list  I  shal  wel  have  my  love. 
Thy  temple  wol  I  worshipe  everemo, 
And  on  thyn  auter,  wher  I  ryde  or  go, 
I  wol  don  sacrifice  and  fyres  bete. 
And  if  ye  wol  nat  so,  my  lady  swete, 
Than  preye  I  thee,  to-morwe  with  a  spere 
That  Arcita  me  thurgh  the  herte  bere. 
Than  rekke  I  noght,  whan  I  have  lost  my  lyf , 
Though  that  Arcita  winne  hir  to  his  wyf . 
This  is  theffect  and  ende  of  my  preyere, 
Yif  rne  my  love,  thou  blisful  lady  dere." 
Whan  thorisoun  was  doon  of  Palamon, 
His  sacrifice  he  did,  and  that  anon, 
Ful  pitously  with  alle  circumstaunces, 
Al  telle  I  noght  as  now  his  observaunces. 
But  atte  laste  the  statue  of  Venus  shook, 
And  made  a  signe,  wher-by  that  he  took 

Sk.,  A,  2229-2266 


318  CHAUCER  1179-1216 

That  his  preyere  accepted  was  that  day. 

For  thogh  the  signe  shewed  a  delay, 

Yet  wiste  he  wel  that  graunted  was  his  bone; 

And  with  glad  herte  he  wente  him  hoom  ful  sone. 

The  thridde  houre  inequal  that  Palamon 
Bigan  to  Venus  temple  for  to  goon, 
Up  roos  the  sonne  and  up  roos  Emelye, 
And  to  the  temple  of  Diane  gan  hye. 
Hir  maydens,  that  she  thider  with  hir  ladde, 
Ful  redily  with  hem  the  fyr  they  hadde, 
Thencens,  the  clothes,  and  the  remenant  al 
That  to  the  sacrifyce  longen  shal; 
The  homes  ful  of  meth  as  was  the  gyse; 
Ther  lakked  noght  to  doon  hir  sacrifyse. 
Hir  brighte  heer  was  kempt,  untressed  al; 
A  coroune  of  a  grene  ook  cerial 
Up-on  hir  heed  was  set  ful  fair  and  mete. 
Two  fyres  on  the  auter  gan  she  bete, 
And  did  hir  thinges,  as  men  may  biholde 
In  Stace  of  Thebes,  and  thise  bokes  olde. 
Whan  kindled  was  the  fyr,  with  pitous  chere 
Un-to  Diane  she  spak  as  ye  may  here. 

"O  chaste  goddesse  of  the  wodes  grene, 
To  wrhom  bothe  hevene  and  erthe  and  see  is  sene, 
Quene  of  the  regne  of  Pluto  derk  and  lowe, 
Goddesse  of  maydens,  that  myn  herte  hast  knowe: 
I  am,  thou  woost,  yet  of  thy  companye, 
A  mayde,  and  love  hunting  and  venerye, 
And  for  to  walken  in  the  wodes  wilde, 
And  noght  to  been  a  wyf  and  be  with  childe. 
Noght  wol  I  knowe  companye  of  man. 
Now  help  me,  lady,  sith  ye  may  and  can, 
For  tho  thre  formes  that  thou  hast  in  thee. 
And  Palamon,  that  hath  swich  love  to  me, 
And  eek  Arcite,  that  loveth  me  so  sore, 
This  grace  I  preye  thee  with-oute  more, 
As  sende  hem  love  and  pees  bitwixe  hem  two; 
And  fro  me  turne  awey  hir  hertes  so 

Sk.,  A-  2267-2280;  2289-2300;  2307-2318 


1217-1254          THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  319 

That  al  hir  hote  love  and  hir  desyr, 
And  al  hir  bisy  torment  and  hir  fyr, 
Be  queynt,  or  turned  in  another  place. 
And  if  so  be  thou  wolt  not  do  me  grace, 
Or  if  my  destinee  be  shapen  so 
That  I  shal  nedes  have  oon  of  hem  two, 
As  sende  me  him  that  most  desireth  me. 
Bihold,  goddesse  of  clene  chastitee, 
The  bittre  teres  that  on  my  chekes  falle. 
Sin  thou  art  mayde,  and  keper  of  us  alle, 
My  maydenhede  thou  keep  and  wel  conserve, 
And  whyl  I  live  a  mayde,  I  wol  thee  serve.'* 

The  fyres  brenne  up-on  the  auter  clere, 
Whyl  Emelye  was  thus  in  hir  preyere; 
But  sodeinly  she  saugh  a  sighte  queynte, 
For  right  anon  oon  of  the  fyres  queynte 
And  quiked  agayn,  and  after  that  anon 
That  other  fyr  was  queynt  and  al  agon. 
And  as  it  queynte,  it  made  a  whistelinge, 
As  doon  thise  wete  brondes  in  hir  brenninge, 
And  at  the  brondes  ende  out-ran  anoon 
As  it  were  blody  dropes  many  oon; 
For  which  so  sore  agast  was  Emelye 
That  she  was  wel  ny  mad,  and  gan  to  crye, 
For  she  ne  wiste  what  it  signifyed, 
But  only  for  the  fere  thus  hath  she  cryed 
And  weep  that  it  was  pitee  for  to  here. 
And  ther-with-al  Diane  gan  appere 
With  bowe  in  hond,  right  as  an  hunteresse, 
And  seyde,  "  Doghter,  stint  thyn  hevinesse. 
Among  the  goddes  hye  it  is  affermed, 
And  by  eterne  word  write  and  confermed, 
Thou  shalt  ben  wedded  un-to  oon  of  tho 
That  han  for  thee  so  muchel  care  and  wo; 
But  un-to  which  of  hem  I  may  nat  telle. 
Farwel,  for  I  ne  may  no  lenger  dwelle. 
The  fyres  which  that  on  myn  auter  brenne 
Shul  thee  declaren,  er  that  thou  go  henne, 

Sk.,  A,  2319-2356 


320  CHAUCER 


1255-1292 


Thyn  aventure  of  love,  as  in  this  cas." 
And  with  that  word  the  arwes  in  the  cas 
Of  the  goddesse  clateren  faste  and  ringe, 
And  forth  she  wente  and  made  a  vanisshinge; 
For  which  this  Emelye  astoned  was, 
And  seyde,  "What  amounteth  this,  alias! 
I  putte  me  in  thy  proteccioun, 
Diane,  and  in  thy  disposicioun." 
And  hoom  she  gooth  anon  the  nexte  weye. 
This  is  theffect,  ther  is  namore  to  seye. 

The  nexte  houre  of  Mars  folwinge  this, 
Arcite  un-to  the  temple  walked  is 
Of  fierse  Mars,  to  doon  his  sacrifyse 
With  alle  the  rytes  of  his  payen  wyse. 
With  pitous  herte  and  heigh  devocioun, 
Right  thus  to  Mars  he  seyde  his  orisoun; 

"O  stronge  god,  that  in  the  regnes  colde, 
Of  Trace  honoured  art,  and  lord  y-holde, 
And  hast  in  every  regne  and  every  lond 
Of  armes  al  the  brydel  in  thyn  hond, 
And  hem  fortunest  as  thee  list  devyse, 
Accept  of  me  my  pitous  sacrifyse. 
For  thilke  peyne  and  thilke  hote  fyr 
In  which  thou  whylom  brendest  for  desyr, 
Whan  that  thou  usedest  the  grete  beautee 
Of  fayre  yonge  fresshe  Venus  free, 
And  haddest  hir  in  armes  at  thy  wille, 
Al-though  thee  ones  on  a  tyme  misfille 
Whan  Vulcanus  had  caught  thee  in  his  las, 
And  fond  thee  Hgging  by  his  wyf,  alias! 
For  thilke  sorwe  that  was  in  thyn  herte, 
Have  routhe  as  wel  up-on  my  peynes  smerte. 
I  am  yong  and  unkonning  as  thou  wost, 
And,  as  I  trowe,  with  love  offended  most, 
That  evere  was  any  lyves  creature; 
For  she  that  dooth  me  al  this  wo  endure 
Ne  reccheth  nevere  wher  I  sinke  or  flete. 
And  wel  I  woot,  er  she  me  mercy  hete, 

Sk.,  A,  2357-2378;  2383-2398 


1293-1330         THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  321 

I  moot  with  strengthe  winne  hir  in  the  place; 
And  wel  I  woot,  withouten  help  or  grace 
Of  thee,  ne  may  my  strengthe  noght  availle. 
Than  help  me,  lord,  to-morwe  in  my  bataille. 
Thy  soverein  temple  wol  I  most  honouren 
Of  any  place,  and  alwey  most  labouren 
In  thy  plesaunce  and  in  thy  craftes  stronge, 
And  in  thy  temple  I  wol  my  baner  honge, 
And  alle  the  armes  of  my  company e; 
And  evere-mo  un-to  that  day  I  dye, 
Eterne  fyr  I  wol  biforn  thee  finde. 
And  eek  to  this  avow  I  wol  me  binde: 
My  berd,  myn  heer  that  hongeth  long  adoun, 
That  nevere  yet  ne  felte  offensioun 
Of  rasour  nor  of  shere,  I  wol  thee  yive, 
And  ben  thy  trewe  servant  whyl  I  live. 
Now  lord,  have  routhe  up-on  my  sorwes  sore; 
Yif  me  victorie,  I  aske  thee  namore." 

The  preyere  stinte  of  Arcita  the  stronge, 
The  ringes  on  the  temple-dore  that  honge, 
And  eek  the  dores,  clatereden  ful  faste, 
Of  which  Arcita  som-what  him  agaste. 
The  fyres  brende  up-on  the  auter  brighte, 
That  it  gan  al  the  temple  for  to  lighte; 
And  swete  smel  the  ground  anon  up-yaf , 
And  Arcita  anon  his  hand  up-haf, 
And  more  encens  in-to  the  fyr  he  caste, 
With  othere  rytes  mo;  and  atte  laste 
The  statue  of  Mars  bigan  his  hauberk  ringe. 
And  with  that  soun  he  herde  a  murmuringe 
Ful  lowe  and  dim,  that  sayde  thus:  "Victorie!" 
For  which  he  yaf  to  Mars  honour  and  glorie. 
And  thus  with  loye,  and  hope  wel  to  fare, 
Arcite  anon  un-to  his  in  is  fare, 
As  fayn  as  fowel  is  of  the  brighte  sonne. 

And  right  anon  swich  stryf  ther  is  bigonne 
For  thilke  graunting  in  the  hevene  above 
Bitwixe  Venus,  the  goddesse  of  love, 

Sk.,  A,  2399-2402;  2407-2440 


322  CHAUCER  1331-1304 

And  Mars,  the  sterne  god  armipotente, 
That  lupiter  was  bisy  it  to  stente, 
Til  that  the  pale  Saturnus  the  colde, 
That  knew  so  manye  of  aventures  olde, 
Fond  in  his  olde  experience  an  art 
That  he  ful  sone  hath  plesed  every  part. 
As  sooth  is  sayd,  elde  hath  greet  avantage; 
In  elde  is  bothe  wisdom  and  usage. 

Explicit  tercia  pars.    Sequitur  pars  quarta. 


Greet  was  the  feste  in  Athenes  that  day, 

And  eek  the  lusty  seson  of  that  May 

Made  every  wight  to  been  in  swich  plesaunce 

That  al  that  Monday  lusten  they  and  daunce, 

And  spenden  it  in  Venus  heigh  servyse. 

But  by  the  cause  that  they  sholde  ryse 

Erly  for  to  seen  the  grete  fight, 

Unto  hir  reste  wente  they  at  night. 

And  on  the  morwe  whan  that  day  gan  springe, 

Of  hors  and  harneys,  noyse  and  clateringe 

Ther  was  in  hostelryes  al  aboute; 

And  to  the  paleys  rood  ther  many  a  route. 

Ther  as  nede  is,  they  weren  no- thing  ydel; 

The  fomy  stedes  on  the  golden  brydel 

Gnawing,  and  faste  the  armurers  also 

With  fyle  and  hamer  priking  to  and  fro; 

Yemen  on  fote,  and  communes  many  oon 

With  shorte  staves,  thikke  as  they  may  goon; 

Pypes,  trompes,  nakers,  clariounes 

That  in  the  bataille  blowen  blody  sounes; 

The  paleys  ful  of  peples  up  and  doun, 

Heer  three,  ther  ten,  holding  hir  questioun, 

Divyning  of  thise  Thebane  knightes  two. 

Somme  seyden  thus,  somme  seyde  it  shal  be  so; 

Somme  helden  with  him  with  the  blake  berd, 

Somme  with  the  balled,  somme  with  the  thikke  herd; 

Sk.,  A,  2441-2448;  2483-2494;  2505-2518 


1365-1402          THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  323 

Somme  sayde  he  loked  grim  and  he  wolde  fighte; 
He  hath  a  sparth  of  twenty  pound  of  wighte. 
Thus  was  the  halle  ful  of  divyninge 
Longe  after  that  the  sonne  gan  to  springe. 

The  grete  Theseus,  that  of  his  sleep  awaked 
With  minstralcye  and  noyse  that  was  maked, 
Held  yet  the  chambre  of  his  paleys  riche 
Til  that  the  Thebane  knightes,  bothe  y-liche 
Honoured,  were  into  the  paleys  fet. 
Duk  Theseus  was  at  a  windowe  set, 
Arrayed  right  as  he  were  a  god  in  trone. 
The  peple  preesseth  thider-ward  ful  sone 
Him  for  to  seen  and  doon  heigh  reverence, 
And  eek  to  herkne  his  heste  and  his  sentence. 

An  heraud  on  a  scaffold  made  an  "  ho," 
Til  al  the  noyse  of  peple  was  y-do; 
And  whan  he  saugh  the  peple  of  noyse  al  stille, 
Tho  shewed  he  the  mighty  dukes  wille. 

"The  lord  hath  of  his  heigh  discrecioun 
Considered  that  it  were  destruccioun 
To  gentil  blood  to  tighten  in  the  gyse 
Of  mortal  bataille  now  in  this  empryse. 
Wherfore  to  shapen  that  they  shul  not  dye, 
He  wol  his  firste  purpos  modifye. 
No  man  therfore,  up  peyne  of  los  of  lyf , 
No  maner  shot  ne  pollax  ne  short  knyf 
Into  the  listes  sende  or  thider  bringe; 
Ne  short  swerd  for  to  stoke,  with  poynt  bytinge, 
No  man  ne  drawe  ne  bere  it  by  his  syde. 
Ne  no  man  shal  un-to  his  felawe  ryde 
But  o  cours,  with  a  sharp  y-grounde  spere; 
Foyne,  if  him  list,  on  fote,  him-self  to  were. 
And  he  that  is  at  meschief  shal  be  take, 
And  noght  slayn,  but  be  brought  un-to  the  stake 
That  shal  ben  ordeyned  on  either  syde; 
But  thider  he  shal  by  force,  and  ther  abyde. 
And  if  so  falle  the  chieftayn  be  take 
On  either  syde,  or  elles  slee  his  make, 

Sk.,  A,  2519-2556 


324  CHAUCER  1403-1440 

No  lenger  shal  the  turneyinge  laste. 
God  spede  yow;  go  forth  and  ley  on  faste. 
With  longe  swerd  and  with  maces  fight  your  fille. 
Goth  now  your  wey;  this  is  the  lordes  wille." 

The  voys  of  peple  touchede  the  hevene, 
So  loude  cryden  they  with  merye  stevene: 
"  God  save  swich  a  lord  that  is  so  good, 
He  wilneth  no  destruccioun  of  blood!" 
Up  goon  the  trompes  and  the  melodye. 
And  to  the  listes  rit  the  companye 
By  ordinaunce,  thurgh-oute  the  citee  large, 
Hanged  with  cloth  of  gold  and  nat  with  sarge. 
Ful  lyk  a  lord  this  noble  duk  gan  ryde, 
Thise  two  Thebanes  up-on  either  syde, 
And  after  rood  the  quene  and  Emelye, 
And  after  that  another  companye 
Of  oon  and  other,  after  hir  degree. 
And  thus  they  passen  thurgh-oute  the  citee, 
And  to  the  listes  come  they  by  tyme. 
It  nas  not  of  the  day  yet  fully  pryme, 
Whan  set  was  Theseus  ful  riche  and  hye, 
Ipolita  the  quene  and  Emelye, 
And  other  ladies  in  degrees  aboute. 
Un-to  the  seetes  preesseth  al  the  route. 
And  west-ward  thurgh  the  gates  under  Marte, 
Arcite  and  eek  the  hundred  of  his  parte 
With  baner  reed  is  entred  right  anon; 
And  in  that  selve  moment  Palamon 
Is  under  Venus,  est-ward  in  the  place, 
With  baner  whyt,  and  hardy  chere  and  face. 
In  al  the  world,  to  seken  up  and  doun, 
So  even  with-outen  variacioun, 
Ther  nere  swiche  companyes  tweye. 
For  ther  nas  noon  so  wys  that  coude  seye 
That  any  had  of  other  avauntage 
Of  worthinesse,  ne  of  estaat,  ne  age, 
So  even  wrere  they  chosen,  for  to  gesse. 
And  in  twro  renges  faire  they  hem  dresse. 

Sk.,  A,  2557-2594 


1441-1478  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  325 

Whan  that  hir  names  rad  were  everichoon, 
That  in  hir  nombre  gyle  were  ther  noon, 
Tho  were  the  gates  shet,  and  cryed  was  loude, 
"Do  now  your  devoir,  yonge  knightes  proude!" 

The  heraudes  lefte  hir  priking  up  and  doun; 
Now  ringen  trompes  loude  and  clarioun; 
Ther  is  namore  to  seyn,  but  west  and  est 
In  goon  the  speres  ful  sadly  in  arest; 
In  goth  the  sharpe  spore  in-to  the  syde. 
Ther  seen  men  who  can  luste  and  who  can  ryde; 
Ther  shiveren  shaftes  up-on  sheeldes  thikke; 
He  feleth  thurgh  the  herte-spoon  the  prikke. 
Up  springen  speres  twenty  foot  on  highte; 
Oute  goon  the  swerdes  as  the  silver  brighte. 
The  helmes  they  to-hewen  and  to-shrede; 
Oute  brest  the  blood  with  sterne  stremes  rede. 
With  mighty  maces  the  bones  they  to-breste. 
He  thurgh  the  thikkeste  of  the  throng  gan  threste. 
Ther  stomblen  stedes  stronge,  and  doun  goth  al. 
He  rolleth  under  foot  as  dooth  a  bal. 
He  foyneth  on  his  feet  with  his  tronchoun, 
And  he  him  hurtleth  with  his  hors  adoun. 
He  thurgh  the  body  is  hurt  and  sithen  y-take, 
Maugree  his  heed,  and  broght  un-to  the  stake, 
As  forward  was,  right  ther  he  moste  abyde; 
Another  lad  is  on  that  other  syde. 
And  som  tyme  dooth  hem  Theseus  to  reste, 
Hem  to  refresshe  and  drinken  if  hem  leste. 
Ful  ofte  a-day  han  thise  Thebanes  two 
Togidre  y-met,  and  wroght  his  felawe  wo; 
Unhorsed  hath  ech  other  of  hem  tweye. 
Ther  nas  no  tygre  in  the  vale  of  Galgopheye, 
Whan  that  hir  whelp  is  stole  whan  it  is  lyte, 
So  cruel  on  the  hunte,  as  is  Arcite 
For  lelous  herte  upon  this  Palamoun. 
Ne  in  Belmarye  ther  nis  so  fel  leoun, 
That  hunted  is  or  for  his  hunger  wood, 
Ne  of  his  praye  desireth  so  the  blood, 

Sk.,  A,   2595-2632 


326  CHAUCER  1479-1515 

As  Palamon  to  sleen  his  fo  Arcite. 
The  lelous  strokes  on  hir  helmes  byte; 
Oute  renneth  blood  on  bothe  hir  sydes  rede. 

Som  tyme  an  ende  ther  is  of  every  dede; 
For  er  the  sonne  un-to  the  reste  wente, 
The  stronge  King  Emetreus  gan  hente 
This  Palamon  as  he  faught  with  Arcite, 
And  made  his  swerd  depe  in  his  flesh  to  byte; 
And  by  the  force  of  twenty  is  he  take 
Unyolden,  and  y-drawe  unto  the  stake. 
And  in  the  rescous  of  this  Palamoun 
The  stronge  King  Ligurge  is  born  adoun; 
And  King  Emetreus,  for  al  his  strengthe, 
Is  born  out  of  his  sadel  a  swerdes  lengthe, 
So  hitte  him  Palamon  er  he  were  take: 
But  al  for  noght,  he  was  broght  to  the  stake. 
His  hardy  herte  mighte  him  helpe  naught; 
He  moste  abyde  whan  that  he  was  caught 
By  force  and  eek  by  composicioun. 

Who  sorweth  now  but  woful  Palamoun, 
That  moot  namore  goon  agayn  to  fighte? 
And  whan  that  Theseus  had  seyn  this  sighte. 
Un-to  the  folk  that  foghten  thus  echoon 
He  cryde,  "Ho!  namore,  for  it  is  doon! 
I  wol  be  trewe  luge,  and  no  partye. 
Arcite  of  Thebes  shal  have  Emelye, 
That  by  his  fortune  hath  hir  faire  y-wonne." 
Anon  ther  is  a  noyse  of  peple  bigonne 
For  loye  of  this,  so  loude  and  heigh  with-alle 
It  semed  that  the  listes  sholde  falle. 

What  can  now  faire  Venus  doon  above? 
What  seith  she  now?  What  dooth  this  quene  of  love? 
But  wepeth  so  for  wanting  of  hir  wille 
Til  that  hir  teres  in  the  listes  fille; 
She  seyde,  "I  am  ashamed,  doutelees." 
Saturnus  seyde,  "  Doghter,  hold  thy  pees. 
Mars  hath  his  wille,  his  knight  hath  al  his  bone, 
And  by  myn  heed  thou  shalt  ben  esed  sone." 

Sk.,  A,   2633-2670 


1517-1554          THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  327 

The  trompes  with  the  loude  minstralcye, 
The  heraudes,  that  ful  loude  yolle  and  crye, 
Been  in  hir  wele  for  loye  of  Daun  Arcite. 
But  herkneth  me,  and  stinteth  now  a  lyte, 
Which  a  miracle  ther  bifel  anon. 

This  fierse  Arcite  hath  of  his  helm  y-don, 
And  on  a  courser,  for  to  shewe  his  face, 
He  priketh  endelong  the  large  place, 
Loking  upward  up-on  this  Emelye; 
And  she  agayn  him  caste  a  freendlich  ye, 
And  she  was  al  his  chere,  as  in  his  herte. 
Out  of  the  ground  a  furie  infernal  sterte, 
From  Pluto  sent,  at  requeste  of  Saturne, 
For  which  his  hors  for  fere  gan  to  turne, 
And  leep  asyde,  and  foundred  as  he  leep; 
And  er  that  Arcite  may  taken  keep, 
He  pighte  him  on  the  pomel  of  his  heed 
That  in  the  place  he  lay  as  he  were  deed, 
His  brest  to-brosten  with  his  sadel-bowe. 
As  blak  he  lay  as  any  col  or  crowe, 
So  was  the  blood  y-ronnen  in  his  face. 
Anon  he  was  y-born  out  of  the  place, 
With  herte  sore,  to  Theseus  paleys. 
Tho  was  he  corven  out  of  his  harneys, 
And  in  a  bed  y-brought  ful  faire  and  blyve, 
For  he  was  yet  in  memorie  and  alyve, 
And  alway  crying  after  Emelye. 

Duk  Theseus  with  al  his  companye 
Is  comen  hoom  to  Athenes  his  citee 
With  alle  blisse  and  greet  solempnitee. 
Al  be  it  that  this  aventur?  was  falle, 
He  nolde  noght  disconforten  hem  alle. 
Men  seyde  eek  that  Arcite  shal  nat  dye; 
He  shal  ben  heled  of  his  maladye. 
And  of  another  thing  they  were  as  fayn, 
That  of  hem  alle  was  ther  noon  y-slayn, 
Al  were  they  sore  y-hurt,  and  namely  oon 
That  with  a  spere  was  thirled  his  brest-boon. 

Sk.,  A,  2671-2680;  2683-2710 


328  CHAUCER  1555-1592 

For  which  anon  Duk  Theseus  leet  crye, 

To  stinten  alle  rancour  and  envye, 

The  gree  as  wel  of  o  syde  as  of  other, 

And  either  syde  y-lyk,  as  otheres  brother; 

And  yaf  hem  yif tes  after  hir  degree, 

And  fully  heeld  a  feste  dayes  three; 

And  conveyed  the  kinges  worthily 

Out  of  his  toun  a  lournee  largely. 

And  hoom  wente  every  man  the  righte  way. 

Ther  was  namore,  but  "  Far  wel,  have  good  day!" 

Of  this  bataille  I  wol  namore  endyte, 

But  speke  of  Palamon  and  of  Arcite. 

Swelleth  the  brest  of  Arcite,  and  the  sore 
Encreesseth  at  his  herte  more  and  more. 
The  clothered  blood,  for  any  lechecraft, 
Corrupteth  and  is  in  his  bouk  y-laft. 
And  certeinly,  ther  nature  wol  nat  wirche, 
Far- wel,  phisyk!  go  ber  the  man  to  chirche! 
This  al  and  som,  that  Arcita  mot  dye, 
For  which  he  sendeth  after  Emelye, 
And  Palamon  that  was  his  cosin  dere. 
Than  seyde  he  thus,  as  ye  shul  after  here: 

"Naught  may  the  woful  spirit  in  myn  herte 
Declare  o  poynt  of  alle  my  sorwes  smerte 
To  yow,  my  lady,  that  I  love  most; 
But  I  biquethe  the  service  of  my  gost 
To  yow  aboven  every  creature, 
Sin  that  my  lyf  ne  may  no  lenger  dure. 
Alias,  the  wo!  alias,  the  peynes  stronge, 
That  I  for  yow  have  suffred,  and  so  longe! 
Alias,  the  deeth!  alias,  myn  Emelye! 
Alias,  departing  of  our  companye! 
Alias,  myn  hertes  quene!  alias,  my  wyf ! 
Myn  hertes  lady,  ender  of  my  lyf! 
What  is  this  world?  What  asketh  men  to  have? 
Now  with  his  love,  now  in  his  colde  grave 
Allone,  with-outen  any  companye. 
Far- wel,  my  swete  fo!  myn  Emelye! 

Sk.,  A,  2731-2746;  2759-2780 


1593-1630          THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  329 

And  softe  tak  me  in  your  armes  tweye, 
For  love  of  God,  and  herkneth  what  I  seye. 

"I  have  heer  with  my  cosin  Palamon 
Had  stryf  and  rancour,  many  a  day  a-gon, 
For  love  of  yow  and  for  my  lelousye. 
And  lupiter  so  wis  my  soule  gye, 
To  speken  of  a  servant  proprely, 
With  alle  circumstaunces  trewely, 
That  is  to  seyn,  trouthe,  honour,  and  knighthede, 
Wisdom,  humblesse,  estaat,  and  heigh  kinrede, 
Fredom,  and  al  that  longeth  to  that  art, 
So  lupiter  have  of  my  soule  part, 
As  in  this  world  right  now  ne  knowe  I  non 
So  worthy  to  ben  loved  as  Palamon, 
That  serveth  yow  and  wol  don  al  his  lyf . 
And  if  that  evere  ye  shul  been  a  wyf , 
Foryet  nat  Palamon,  the  gen  til  man." 
And  with  that  word  his  speche  faille  gan, 
For  from  his  feet  up  to  his  brest  was  come 
The  cold  of  deeth,  that  had  him  overcome. 
And  yet  more-over  in  his  armes  two 
The  vital  strengthe  is  lost  and  al  ago. 
Only  the  intellect,  with-outen  more, 
That  dwelled  in  his  herte  syk  and  sore, 
Gan  faillen  when  the  herte  felte  deeth, 
Dusked  his  eyen  two  and  failled  breeth. 
But  on  his  lady  yet  caste  he  his  ye; 
His  laste  word  was,  "Mercy,  Emelye!" 
His  spirit  chaunged  hous,  and  wente  ther, 
As  I  cam  nevere,  I  can  nat  tellen  wher. 
Therfore  I  stinte,  I  nam  no  divinistre; 
Of  soules  finde  I  nat  in  this  registre, 
Ne  me  ne  list  thilke  opiniouns  to  telle 
Of  hem  though  that  they  wryten  wher  they  dwelle. 
Arcite  is  cold,  ther  Mars  his  soule  gye; 
Now  wol  I  speken  forth  of  Emelye. 

Shrighte  Emelye  and  howleth  Palamon, 
And  Theseus  his  suster  took  anon 

Sk.,  A,  2781-2818 


330  CHAUCER 


1631-1668 


Swowning,  and  bar  hir  fro  the  corps  away. 
What  helpeth  it  to  tarien  forth  the  day 
To  tellen  how  she  weep  bothe  eve  and  morwe? 
For  in  swich  cas  wommen  have  swich  sorwe, 
Whan  that  hir  housbonds  been  from  hem  ago, 
That  for  the  more  part  they  sorwen  so, 
Or  elles  fallen  in  swich  maladye, 
That  at  the  laste  certeinly  they  dye. 

Infinite  been  the  sorwes  and  the  teres 
Of  olde  folk,  and  folk  of  tendre  yeres, 
In  al  the  toun  for  deeth  of  this  Theban. 
For  him  ther  wepeth  bothe  child  and  man; 
So  greet  a  weping  was  ther  noon,  certayn, 
Whan  Ector  was  y-broght  al  freshe  y-slayn 
To  Troye;  alias!  the  pitee  that  was  ther, 
Cracching  of  chekes,  rending  eek  of  heer. 
"Why  woldestow  be  deed,"  thise  wommen  crye? 
"And  haddest  gold  y-nough,  and  Emelye?" 
No  man  mighte  gladen  Theseus, 
Saving  his  olde  fader  Egeus, 
That  knew  this  worldes  transmutacioun, 
As  he  had  seyn  it  chaungen  up  and  doun, 
loye  after  wo,  and  wo  after  gladnesse, 
And  shewed  hem  ensamples  and  lyknesse. 

"Right  as  ther  deyed  nevere  man,"  quod  he, 
"That  he  ne  livede  in  erthe  in  some  degree, 
Right  so  ther  livede  nevere  man,"  he  seyde, 
"In  al  this  world  that  som  tyme  he  ne  deyde. 
This  world  nis  but  a  thurghfare  ful  of  wo, 
And  we  ben  pilgrimes  passing  to  and  fro; 
Deeth  is  an  ende  of  every  worldly  sore." 
And  over  al  this  yet  seyde  he  muchel  more 
To  this  effect,  ful  wysly  to  enhorte 
The  peple  that  they  sholde  hem  reconforte. 

Duk  Theseus  with  al  his  bisy  cure 
Caste  now  wher  that  the  sepulture 
Of  good  Arcite  may  best  y-maked  be, 
And  eek  most  honurable  in  his  degree. 

Sk.,  A,  2819-2856 


1669-1706          THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  331 

And  at  the  laste  he  took  conclusioun 
That  ther  as  first  Arcite  and  Palamoim 
Hadden  for  love  the  bataille  hem  bitwene, 
That  in  that  selve  grove  swete  and  grene, 
Ther  as  he  had  his  amorous  desires, 
His  compleynte,  and  for  love  his  hote  fires, 
He  wolde  make  a  fyr  in  which  thoffice 
Funeral  he  mighte  al  accomplice; 
And  leet  comaunde  anon  to  hakke  and  hewe 
The  okes  olde,  and  leye  hem  on  a  rewe 
In  colpons  wel  arrayed  for  to  brenne; 
His  officers  with  swifte  feet  they  renne 
And  ryde  anon  at  his  comaundement. 
And  after  this,  Theseus  hath  y-sent 
After  a  bere,  and  it  al  over-spradde 
With  cloth  of  gold,  the  richest  that  he  hadde. 
And  of  the  same  suyte  he  cladde  Arcite; 
Upon  his  hondes  had  he  gloves  whyte; 
Eek  on  his  heed  a  croune  of  laurer  grene 
And  in  his  hond  a  swerd  ful  bright  and  kene. 
He  leyde  him  bare,  the  visage  on  the  bere, 
Therwith  he  weep  that  pitee  was  to  here. 
And  for  the  peple  sholde  seen  him  alle, 
Whan  it  was  day  he  broghte  him  to  the  halle. 

Heigh  labour  and  ful  greet  apparaillinge 
Was  at  the  service  and  the  fyr-makinge, 
That  with  his  grene  top  the  hevene  raughte, 
And  twenty  fadme  of  brede  the  armes  straughte; 
This  is  to  seyn,  the  bowes  were  so  brode. 
Of  stree  first  ther  was  leyd  ful  many  a  lode. 
But  how  the  fyr  was  maked  up-on  highte, 
And  eek  the  names  how  the  trees  highte, 
As  ook,  firr,  birch,  asp,  alder,  holm,  popler, 
Wilow,  elm,  plane,  ashe. ,  box,  chasteyn,  lind,  laurer, 
Mapul,  thorn,  beech,  hasel,  ew,  whippeltree, 
How  they  were.n  feld,  shal  nat  be  told  for  me; 
Ne  how  the  goddes  ronnen  up  and  doun, 
Disherited  of  hir  habitacioun, 

Sk.,  A, 2857-2880;  2913-2926 


332  CHAUCER  1707-1744 

In  which  they  woneden  in  reste  and  pees, 
Nymphes,  faunes,  and  amadrides; 
Ne  how  the  bestes  and  the  briddes  alle 
Fledden  for  fere  whan  the  wode  was  falle; 
Ne  how  the  ground  agast  was  of  the  light, 
That  was  nat  wont  to  seen  the  sonne  bright; 
Ne  how  the  fyr  was  couched  first  with  stree, 
And  than  with  drye  stokkes  cloven  a  three, 
And  than  with  grene  wode  and  spycerye, 
And  than  with  cloth  of  gold  and  with  perrye, 
And  gerlandes  hanging  with  ful  many  a  flour, 
The  mirre,  thencens,  with  al  so  greet  odour; 
Ne  how  Arcite  lay  among  al  this, 
Ne  what  richesse  aboute  his  body  is; 
Ne  how  that  Emelye,  as  was  the  gyse, 
Putte  in  the  fyr  of  funeral  servyse; 
Ne  how  she  swowned  whan  men  made  the  fyr, 
Ne  what  she  spak,  ne  what  was  hir  desyr; 
Ne  what  leweles  men  in  the  fyr  tho  caste, 
Whan  that  the  fyr  was  greet  and  brente  faste; 
Ne  how  som  caste  hir  sheeld,  and  som  hir  spere, 
And  of  hir  vestiments,  which  that  they  were, 
And  cuppes  ful  of  wyn,  and  milk,  and  blood, 
Into  the  fyr,  that  brente  as  it  were  wood; 
Ne  how  the  Grekes  with  an  huge  route 
Thryes  riden  al  the  fyr  aboute 
Up-on  the  left  hand  with  a  loud  shoutinge, 
And  thryes  with  hir  speres  clateringe; 
And  thryes  how  the  ladies  gonne  crye; 
Ne  how  that  lad  was  horn- ward  Emelye; 
Ne  how  Arcite  is  brent  to  asshen  colde; 
Ne  how  that  liche-wake  was  y-holde 
Al  thilke  night,  ne  how  the  Grekes  pleye 
The  wake-pleyes,  ne  kepe  I  nat  to  seye; 
Who  wrastleth  best  naked  with  oille  enoynt, 
Ne  who  that  bar  him  best,  in  no  disioynt. 
I  wol  nat  tellen  eek  how  that  they  goon 
Hoom  til  Athenes,  whan  the  pley  is  doon; 

Sk.,  A,  2927-2964 


1745-1782          THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  333 

But  shortly  to  the  poynt  than  wol  I  wende, 
And  maken  of  my  longe  tale  an  ende. 

By  processe  and  by  lengthe  of  certeyn  yeres 
Al  stinted  is  the  moorning  and  the  teres 
Of  Grekes,  by  oon  general  assent. 
Than  semed  me  ther  was  a  parlement 
At  Athenes,  up-on  certeyn  poynts  and  cas; 
Among  the  whiche  poynts  y-spoken  was 
To  have  with  certeyn  contrees  alliaunce, 
And  have  fully  of  Thebans  obeisaunce. 
For  which  this  noble  Theseus  anon 
Leet  senden  after  gentil  Palamon, 
Unwist  of  him  what  was  the  cause  and  why; 
But  in  his  blake  clothes  sorwefully 
He  cam  at  his  comaundement  in  hye. 
Tho  sente  Theseus  for  Emelye. 
Whan  they  were  set,  and  hust  was  al  the  place, 
And  Theseus  abiden  had  a  space 
Er  any  word  cam  fro  his  wyse  brest, 
His  eyen  sette  he  ther  as  was  his  lest, 
And  with  a  sad  visage  he  syked  stille, 
And  after  that  right  thus  he  seyde  his  wille. 

"The  firste  moever  of  the  cause  above, 
Whan  he  first  made,  the  faire  cheyne  of  love, 
Greet  was  theffect,  and  heigh  was  his  entente. 
Wei  wiste  he  why,  and  what  ther-of  he  mente; 
For  with  that  faire  cheyne  of  love  he  bond 
The  fyr,  the  eyr,  the  water,  and  the  lond, 
In  certeyn  boundes  that  they  may  nat  flee. 
That  same  prince  and  that  moever,"  quod  he, 
"Hath  stablissed  in  this  wrecched  world  adoun 
Certeyn  dayes  and  duracioun 
To  al  that  is  engendred  in  this  place, 
Over  the  whiche  day  they  may  nat  pace, 
Al  mowe  they  yet  tho  dayes  wel  abregge. 
Ther  needeth  non  auctoritee  allegge, 
For  it  is  preved  by  experience, 
But  that  me  list  declaren  my  sentence. 

Sk.,  A,  2965-3002 


334  CHAUCER 


Than  may  men  by  this  ordre  wel  discerne 
That  thilke  moever  stable  is  and  eterne. 
Wel  may  men  knowe,  but  it  be  a  fool, 
That  every  part  deryveth  from  his  hool. 
For  nature  hath  nat  take  his  beginning 
Of  no  partye  ne  cantel  of  a  thing, 
But  of  a  thing  that  parfit  is  and  stable, 
Descending  so  til  it  be  corrumpable. 
And  therfore  of  his  wyse  purveyaunce, 
He  hath  so  wel  biset  his  ordinaunce 
That  speces  of  thinges  and  progressiouns 
Shullen  enduren  by  successiouns, 
And  nat  eterne  be,  with-oute  lye: 
This  maistow  understonde  and  seen  at  ye. 
Ther  helpeth  noght,  al  goth  that  ilke  weye. 
Than  may  I  seyn  that  al  this  thing  moot  deye. 
What  maketh  this  but  lupiter  the  king? 
The  which  is  prince  and  cause  of  alle  thing, 
Converting  al  un-to  his  propre  welle, 
From  which  it  is  deryved,  sooth  to  telle. 
And  heer-agayns  no  creature  on  lyve 
Of  no  degree  availleth  for  to  stryve. 

"Than  is  it  wisdom,  as  it  thinketh  me, 
To  maken  vertu  of  necessitee, 
And  take  it  wel  that  we  may  nat  eschue, 
And  namely  that  to  us  alle  is  due. 
And  who-so  gruccheth  ought,  he  dooth  folye, 
And  rebel  is  to  him  that  al  may  gye. 
And  certeynly  a  man  hath  most  honour 
To  dyen  in  his  excellence  and  flour, 
Whan  he  is  siker  of  his  gode  name; 
Than  hath  he  doon  his  freend,  ne  him,  no  shame. 
And  gladder  oghte  his  freend  ben  of  his  deeth, 
Whan  with  honour  up-y  olden  is  his  breeth, 
Than  whan  his  name  apalled  is  for  age; 
For  al  forgeten  is  his  vasselage. 
The  contrarie  of  al  this  is  wilfulnesse. 
Why  grucchen  we?  why  have  we  hevinesse 

Sk.,  A,  3003-3016;  3033-3054;  3057-3058 


i82i-i858          THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  335 

That  good  Arcite,  of  chivalrye  flour, 

Departed  is  with  duetee  and  honour 

Out  of  this  foule  prison  of  this  lyf ? 

Why  grucchen  heer  his  cosin  and  his  wyf 

Of  his  wel-fare  that  loved  hem  so  weel? 

Can  he  hem  thank?  Nay,  God  wot,  nevere  a  deel, 

That  bothe  his  soule  and  eek  hem-self  offende, 

And  yet  they  mowe  hir  lustes  nat  amende. 

"Suster,"  quod  he,  "this  is  my  fulle  assent, 
With  al  thavys  heer  of  my  parlement, 
That  gentil  Palamon,  your  owne  knight, 
That  serveth  yow  with  wille,  herte,  and  might, 
And  evere  hath  doon,  sin  that  ye  first  him  knewe, 
That  ye  shul,  of  your  grace,  up-on  him  rewe 
And  taken  him  for  housbonde  and  for  lord: 
Leen  my  your  hond,  for  this  is  our  acord. 
Lat  see  now  of  your  wommanly  pitee. 
He  is  a  kinges  brother  sone,  pardee; 
And  though  he  were  a  povre  bacheler, 
Sin  he  hath  served  yow  so  many  a  yeer, 
And  had  for  yow  so  greet  adversitee, 
It  moste  been  considered,  leveth  me; 
For  gentil  mercy  oghte  to  passen  right." 

Than  seyde  he  thus  to  Palamon  ful  right: 
"I  trowe  ther  nedeth  litel  sermoning 
To  make  yow  assente  to  this  thing. 
Com  neer,  and  tak  your  lady  by  the  hond." 
Bitwixen  hem  was  maad  anon  the  bond 
That  highte  matrimoine  or  mariage, 
By  al  the  counseil  and  the  baronage. 
And  thus  with  alle  blisse  and  melodye 
Hath  Palamon  y-wedded  Emelye. 
And  God,  that  al  this  wyde  world  hath  wroght, 
Sende  him  his  love,  that  hath  it  dere  a-boght. 
For  now  is  Palamon  in  alle  wele, 
Living  in  blisse,  in  richesse,  and  in  hele; 
And  Emelye  him  loveth  so  tendrely, 
And  he  hir  serveth  al-so  gentilly, 

Sk.,  A,  3059-3066;  3075-3104 


336  CHAUCER  1359-1862.  1-26 

That  nevere  was  ther  no  word  hem  bitwene 

Of  lelousye  or  any  other  tene. 

Thus  endeth  Palamon  and  Emelye; 

And  God  save  al  this  faire  companye! — Amen. 

Here  is  ended  the  Knightes  Tale. 

Bihoold  the  murie  wordes  of  the  Hoost  to  the  lady  Prioresse. 

Whan  that  the  Knight  had  thus  his  tale  y-told, 
In  al  the  route  nas  ther  yong  ne  old 
That  he  ne  seyde  it  was  a  noble  storie, 
And  worthy  for  to  drawen  to  memorie; 
And  namely  for  gentils  everichoon. 
Our  Hoste  lough  and  swoor,  "  So  moot  I  goon, 
This  goth  aright;  unbokeled  is  the  male; 
Lat  see  now  who  shal  telle  another  tale: 


My  lady  Prioresse,  by  your  leve, 

So  that  I  wiste  I  sholde  yow  nat  greve, 

I  wolde  demen  that  ye  tellen  sholde 

A  tale  next,  if  so  were  that  ye  wolde. 

Now  wol  ye  vouche-sauf,  my  lady  dere?" 

"  Gladly,"  quod  she,  and  seyde  as  ye  shal  here. 

The  Prologe  of  the  Prioresses  Tale 

O  Lord,  our  Lord,  thy  name  how  merveillous 
Is  in  this  large  world  y-sprad!  — quod  she: — 
For  noght  only  thy  laude  precious 
Parfourned  is  by  men  of  dignitee, 
But  by  the  mouth  of  children  thy  bountee 
Parfourned  is,  for  on  the  brest  soukinge 
Som  tyme  shewen  they  thyn  heryinge. 

Wherfore  in  laude,  as  I  best  can  or  may, 
Of  thee,  and  of  the  whyte  lilie  flour 
Which  that  thee  bar  and  is  a  mayde  alway, 
To  telle  a  storie  I  wol  do  my  labour; 
Not  that  I  may  encresen  hir  honour, 

Sk.,  A,  3105-3116;  B,  1637-1654 


27-49.  Pr.T.,  i-7  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  337 

For  she  hir-self  is  honour,  and  the  rote 

Of  bountee,  next  hir  sone,  and  soules  bote.— 

O  moder  mayde!  O  mayde  moder  free! 

O  bush  unbrent,  brenning  in  Moyses  sighte, 

That  ravisedest  doun  fro  the  deitee 

Thurgh  thyn  humblesse  the  goost  that  in  thalighte, 

Of  whos  vertu,  whan  he  thyn  herte  lighte, 

Conceived  was  the  fadres  sapience, 

Help  me  to  telle  it  in  thy  reverence! 

Lady!  thy  bountee,  thy  magnificence, 
Thy  vertu,  and  thy  grete  humilitee, 
Ther  may  no  tonge  expresse  in  no  science; 
For  som-tyme,  lady,  er  men  praye  to  thee, 
Thou  goost  biforn  of  thy  benignitee, 
And  getest  us  the  light  thurgh  thy  preyere 
To  gyden  us  un-to  thy  sone  so  dere. 

My  conning  is  so  wayk,  O  blisful  quene, 
For  to  declare  thy  grete  worthinesse, 
That  I  ne  may  the  weighte  nat  sustene; 
But  as  a  child  of  twelf  month  old,  or  lesse, 
That  can  unnethes  any  word  expresse, 
Right  so  fare  I,  and  therfore  I  yow  preye, 
Gydeth  my  song  that  I  shal  of  yow  seye. 


THE  PRIORESSES  TALE 

Here  biginneth  the  Prioresses  Tale 

Ther  was  in  Asie  in  a  greet  citee, 

Amonges  Cristen-folk  a  lewerye, 

Sustened  by  a  lord  of  that  contree 

For  foul  usure  and  lucre  of  vilanye, 

Hateful  to  Crist  and  to  his  company e; 

And  thurgh  the  strete  men  mighte  ryde  or  wende, 

For  it  was  free,  and  open  at  either  ende. 

Sk.,  B,  1655-1684 


338  CHAUCER  8-42 

A  litel  scole  of  Cristen  folk  ther  stood 
Doun  at  the  farther  ende,  in  which  ther  were 
Children  an  heep,  y-comen  of  Cristen  blood, 
That  lerned  in  that  scole  yeer  by  yere 
Swich  maner  doctrine  as  men  used  there, 
This  is  to  seyn,  to  singen  and  to  rede, 
As  smale  children  doon  in  hir  childhede. 

Among  thise  children  was  a  widwes  sone, 
A  litel  clergeon,  sevene  yeer  of  age, 
That  day  by  day  to  scole  was  his  wone, 
And  eek  also,  wher-as  he  saugh  thimage 
Of  Cristes  moder,  had  he  in  usage, 
As  him  was  taught,  to  knele  adoun  and  seye 
His  Ave  Marie  as  he  goth  by  the  weye. 

Thus  hath  this  widwe  hir  litel  sone  y-taught 

Our  blisful  lady,  Cristes  moder  dere, 

To  worshipe  ay,  and  he  forgat  it  naught, 

For  sely  child  wol  alday  sone  lere. 

But  ay  whan  I  remembre  on  this  matere, 

Seint  Nicholas  stant  evere  in  my  presence, 

For  he  so  yong  to  Crist  did  reverence. 

This  litel  child,  his  litel  book  lerninge 

As  he  sat  in  the  scole  at  his  prymer, 

He  Alma  redemptoris  herde  singe, 

As  children  lerned  hir  antiphoner; 

And,  as  he  dorste,  he  drough  him  ner  and  ner, 

And  herkned  ay  the  wordes  and  the  note, 

Til  he  the  firste  vers  coude  al  by  rote. 

Noght  wiste  he  what  this  Latin  was  to  seye, 
For  he  so  yong  and  tendre  was  of  age; 
But  on  a  day  his  felawe  gan  he  preye 
Texpounden  him  this  song  in  his  langage, 
Or  telle  him  why  this  song  was  in  usage. 
This  preyde  he  him  to  construe  and  declare 
Ful  ofte  tyme  upon  his  knowes  bare. 

Sk.,  B,  1685-1719 


43-77  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  339 

His  felawe,  which  that  elder  was  than  he, 

Answerde  him  thus:    "This  song  I  have  herd  seye 

Was  maked  of  our  blisful  lady  free, 

Hir  to  salue,  and  eek  hir  for  to  preye 

To  been  our  help  and  socour  whan  we  deye. 

I  can  no  more  expounde  in  this  matere; 

I  lerne  song,  I  can  but  smal  grammere." 

"And  is  this  song  maked  in  reverence 
Of  Cristes  moder?"  seyde.  this  innocent; 
"Now  certes,  I  wol  do  my  diligence 
To  conne  it  al  er  Cristemasse  is  went. 
Though  that  I  for  my  prymer  shal  be  shent, 
And  shal  be  beten  thryes  in  an  houre, 
I  wol  it  conne,  our  lady  for  to  honoure." 

His  felawe  taughte  him  homward  prively, 
Fro  day  to  day  til  he  coude  it  by  rote, 
And  than  he  song  it  wel  and  boldely 
Fro  word  to  word,  acording  with  the  note; 
Twyes  a  day  it  passed  thurgh  his  throte, 
To  scoleward  and  homward  whan  he  wente: 
On  Cristes  moder  set  was  his  entente. 

As  I  have  seyd,  thurgh-out  the  lewerye 
This  litel  child,  as  he  cam  to  and  fro, 
Ful  merily  than  wolde  he  singe  and  crye 
O  Alma  redemptoris  evere-mo. 
The  swetnesse  hath  his  herte  perced  so 
Of  Cristes  moder  that  to  hir  to  preye 
He  can  nat  stinte  of  singing  by  the  weye. 

Our  firste  fo,  the  serpent  Sathanas, 
That  hath  in  lewes  herte  his  waspes  nest, 
Up  swal,  and  seide,  "O  Hebraik  peple,  alias! 
Is  this  to  yow  a  thing  that  is  honest, 
That  swich  a  boy  shal  walken  as  him  lest 
In  your  despyt,  and  singe  of  swich  sentence, 
Which  is  agayn  your  lawes  reverence?" 

Sk.,  B,  1720-1754 


340  CHAUCER  78-112 

Fro  thennes  forth  the  lewes  han  conspyred 

This  innocent  out  of  this  world  to  chace. 

An  homicyde  ther-to  han  they  hyred 

That  in  an  aley  had  a  privee  place; 

And  as  the  child  gan  for-by  for  to  pace, 

This  cursed  lew  him  hente  and  heeld  him  faste, 

And  kitte  his  throte,  and  in  a  pit  him  caste. 

O  martir,  souded  to  virginitee, 

Now  maystou  singen,  folwing  evere  in  oon 

The  whyte  lamb  celestial — quod  she: — 

Of  which  the  grete  evangelist,  Seint  lohn, 

In  Pathmos  wroot,  which  seith  that  they  that  goon 

Biforn  this  lamb,  and  singe  a  song  al  newe, 

That  nevere,  fleshly,  wommen  they  ne  knewe. 

This  povre  widwe  awaiteth  al  that  night 
After  hir  litel  child,  but  he  cam  noght; 
For  which  as  sone  as  it  was  dayes  light, 
With  face  pale  of  drede  and  bisy  thoght, 
She  hath  at  scole  and  elles-wher  him  soght, 
Til  finally  she  gan  so  fer  espye 
That  he  last  seyn  was  in  the  lewerye. 

With  modres  pitee  in  hir  brest  enclosed, 
She  goth  as  she  were  half  out  of  hir  minde 
To  every  place  wher  she  hath  supposed 
By  lyklihede  hir  litel  child  to  finde; 
And  evere  on  Cristes  moder  meke  and  kinde 
She  cryde,  and  atte  laste  thus  she  wroghte, 
Among  the  cursed  lewes  she  him  soghte. 

She  frayneth  and  she  preyeth  pitously 
To  every  lew  that  dwelte  in  thilke  place 
To  telle  hir  if  hir  child  wente  oght  for-by. 
They  seyde,  "Nay;"  but  lesu  of  his  grace 
Yaf  in  hir  thought,  inwith  a  litel  space, 
That  in  that  place  after  hir  sone  she  cryde 
Wher  he  was  casten  in  a  pit  bisyde. 

Sk.,  B,  1755-1761;  1769-1796 


113-147  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  341 

O  grete  God,  that  parfournest  thy  laude 
By  mouth  of  innocents,  lo  heer  thy  might! 
This  gemme  of  chastitee,  this  emeraude, 
And  eek  of  martirdom  the  ruby  bright, 
Ther  he  with  throte  y-corven  lay  upright 
He  Alma  redemptoris  gan  to  singe 
So  loude  that  al  the  place  gan  to  ringe. 

The  Cristen  folk  that  thurgh  the  strete  wente, 
In  coomen  for  to  wondre  up-on  this  thing; 
And  hastily  they  for  the  provost  sente. 
He  cam  anon  with-outen  tarying, 
And  herieth  Crist,  that  is  of  hevene  king, 
And  eek  his  moder,  honour  of  mankinde, 
And  after  that,  the  lewes  leet  he  binde. 

This  child  with  pitous  lamentacioun 
Up- taken  was,  singing  his  song  alway; 
And  with  honour  of  greet  procession 
They  carien  him  un-to  the  nexte  abbay. 
His  moder  swowning  by  the  bere  lay; 
Unnethe  might  the  peple  that  was  there 
This  newe  Rachel  bringe  fro  his  bere. 

With  torment  and  with  shamful  deth  echon 
This  provost  dooth  thise  lewes  for  to  sterve 
That  of  this  mordre  wiste,  and  that  anon; 
He  nolde  no  swich  cursednesse  observe. 
Yvel  shal  have  that  yvel  wol  deserve. 
Therfore  with  wilde  hors  he  did  hem  drawe, 
And  after  that  he  heng  hem  by  the  lawe. 

Up-on  his  bere  ay  lyth  this  innocent 

Biforn  the  chief  auter  whyl  the  masse  laste, 

And  after  that,  the  abbot  with  his  covent 

Han  sped  hem  for  to  burien  him  ful  faste; 

And  whan  they  holy  water  on  him  caste, 

Yet  spak  this  child,  whan  spreynd  was  holy  water, 

And  song,  "O  Alma  redemptoris  mater!" 

Sk.,  B,  1797-1831 


342  CHAUCER  i48-i82 

This  abbot,  which  that  was  an  holy  man 

As  monkes  been,  or  elles  oghten  be, 

This  yonge  child  to  coniure  he  bigan, 

And  seyde,  "O  dere  child,  I  halse  thee, 

In  vertu  of  the  holy  Trinitee, 

Telle  me  what  is  thy  cause  for  to  singe, 

Sith  that  thy  throte  is  cut,  to  my  seminge?  " 

"My  throte  is  cut  un-to  my  nekke-boon," 
Seyde  this  child,  "and  as  by  wey  of  kinde, 
I  sholde  have  deyed,  ye,  longe  tyme  agoon, 
But  lesu  Crist,  as  ye  in  bokes  finde, 
Wil  that  his  glorie  laste  and  be  in  minde, 
And  for  the  worship  of  his  moder  dere 
Yet  may  I  singe  '0  Alma'  loude  and  clere. 

"This  welle  of  mercy,  Cristes  moder  swete, 

I  lovede  alwey  as  after  my  conninge; 

And  whan  that  I  my  lyf  sholde  forlete, 

To  me  she  cam,  and  bad  me  for  to  singe 

This  antem  verraily  in  my  deyinge, 

As  ye  han  herd,  and  whan  that  I  had  songe, 

Me  thoughte  she  leyde  a  greyn  up-on  my  tonge. 

"Wherfore  I  singe,  and  singe  I  moot  certeyn 
In  honour  of  that  blisful  mayden  free, 
Til  fro  my  tonge  of-taken  is  the  greyn. 
And  afterward  thus  seyde  she  to  me: 
'  My  litel  child,  now  wol  I  f ecche  thee 
Whan  that  the  greyn  is  fro  thy  tonge  y-take; 
Be  nat  agast,  I  wol  thee  nat  forsake. '  ' 

This  holy  monk,  this  abbot,  him  mene  I, 

His  tonge  oute-caughte,  and  took  a-wey  the  greyn, 

And  he  yaf  up  the  goost  ful  softely. 

And  whan  this  abbot  had  this  wonder  seyn, 

His  salte  teres  trikled  doun  as  reyn, 

And  gruf  he  fil  al  plat  up-on  the  grounde, 

And  stille  he  lay  as  he  had  been  y-bounde. 

Sk.,  B,  1832-1866 


t83-i96.  1-17    THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  343 

The  covent  eek  lay  on  the  pavement 
Weping,  and  herien  Cristes  moder  dere, 
And  after  that  they  ryse,  and  forth  ben  went, 
And  toke  awey  this  martir  fro  his  bere, 
And  in  a  tombe  of  marbul- stones  clere 
Enclosen  they  his  litel  body  swete; 
Ther  he  is  now,  God  leve  us  for  to  mete. 

O  yonge  Hugh  of  Lincoln,  slayn  also 

With  cursed  lewes,  as  it  is  notable, 

For  it  nis  but  a  litel  whyle  ago; 

Preye  eek  for  us,  we  sinful  folk  unstable, 

That  of  his  mercy  God  so  merciable 

On  us  his  grete  mercy  multiplye, 

For  reverence  of  his  moder  Marye.    Amen. 

Here  is  ended  the  Prioresses  Tale. 


Bihoold  the  murye  wordes  of  the  Hoost  to  Chaucer 

Whan  seyd  was  al  this  miracle,  every  man 

As  sobre  was  that  wonder  was  to  se, 

Til  that  our  hoste  lapen  tho  bigan, 

And  than  at  erst  he  loked  up-on  me, 

And  seyde  thus,  "What  man  artow?"  quod  he; 

"Thou  lokest  as  thou  woldest  finde  an  hare, 

For  evere  up-on  the  ground  I  see  thee  stare. 

"Approche  neer,  and  loke  up  merily. 

Now  war  yow,  sirs,  and  lat  this  man  have  place. 

He  in  the  waast  is  shape  as  wel  as  I; 

This  were  a  popet  in  an  arm  tenbrace 

For  any  womman,  smal  and  fair  of  face! 

He  semeth  elvish  by  his  contenaunce, 

For  un-to  no  wight  dooth  he  daliaunce. 

"Sey  now  somwhat,  sin  other  folk  han  sayd. 
Telle  us  a  tale  of  mirthe,  and  that  anoon!" 
"Hoste,"  quod  I,  "ne  beth  nat  yvel  apayd, 

Sk.,  B,  1867-1897 


344  CHAUCER       18-21.  1-13.  N.PT.T..I-* 

For  other  tales  certes  can  I  noon, 

But  of  a  rym  I  lerned  longe  agoon." 

"Ye,  that  is  good,"  quod  he;  "now  shul  we  here 

Som  deyntee  thing,  me  thinketh  by  his  chere." 

(Here  follows  the  Tale  of  Sir  T ho  pas.} 


The  Prologe  of  the  Nonne  Preestes  Tale. 

Than  spak  our  host  with  rude  speche  and  bold, 
And  seyde  un-to  the  Nonnes  Freest  anon, 
"Com  neer,  thou  preest,  com  hider,  thou  Sir  lohn, 
Telle  us  swich  thing  as  may  our  hertes  glade, 
Be  blythe,  though  thou  ryde  up-on  a  lade. 
What  though  thyn  hors  be  bothe  foul  and  lene, 
If  he  wol  serve  thee,  rekke  nat  a  bene; 
Loke  that  thyn  herte  be  merye  everemo." 
"  Yis,  sir,"  quod  he,  "yis,  host,  so  mote  I  go, 
But  I  be  merye,  y-wis,  I  wol  be  blamed!" — 
And  right  anon  his  tale  he  hath  attamed, 
And  thus  he  seyde  un-to  us  everichon, 
This  swete  preest,  this  goodly  man,  Sir  lohn. 


THE  NONNE  PREESTES  TALE 

Here  biginneth  the  Nonne  Preestes  Tale  of  the  Cok  and  Hen, 
Chauntecleer  and  Pertelote 

A  povre  widwe,  somdel  stape  in  age, 
Was  whylom  dwelling  in  a  narwe  cotage 
Bisyde  a  grove  stonding  in  a  dale. 
This  widwe  of  which  I  telle  yoft  m^  tale, 
Sin  thilke  day  that  she  was  last  a  wyf 
In  pacience  ladde  a  ful  simple  lyf , 
For  litel  was  hir  catel  and  hir  rente. 
By  housbondrye  of  stifch  as  God  hir  sente 

Sk.,  B,  1898-1901;  3998-4018 


THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  345 


She  fond  hir-self  and  eek  hir  doghtren  two. 
Three  large  sowes  had  she  and  namo, 
Three  kyn,  and  eek  a  sheep  that  highte  Malle. 
Ful  sooty  was  hir  hour  and  eek  hir  halle, 
In  which  she"  eet  f  ul  many  a  sclendre  meel. 
Of  poynaunt  sauce  hir  neded  nevere  a  deel. 
No  deyntee  morsel  passed  thurgh  hir  throte; 
Hir  dyete  was  accordant  to  hir  cote. 
Repleccioun  ne  made  hir  nevere  syk; 
Attempree  dyete  was  al  hir  phisyk, 
And  exercyse  and  hertes  suffisaunce. 
The  goute  lette  hir  no-thing  for  to  daunce, 
Napoplexye  shente  nat  hir  heed. 
No  wyn  ne  drank  she,  neither  whyt  ne  reed; 
Hir  bord  was  served  most  with  whyt  and  blak, 
Milk  and  broun  breed,  in  which  she  fond  no  lak, 
Seynd  bacoun,  and  somtyme  an  ey  or  tweye, 
For  she  was  as  it  were  a  maner  deye. 
A  yerd  she  had,  enclosed  al  aboute 
With  stikkes  and  a  drye  dich  with-oute, 
In  which  she  had  a  cok  heet  Chauntecleer. 
In  al  the  land  of  crowing  nas  his  peer. 
His  vois  was  merier  than  the  mery  orgon 
On  messe-dayes  that  in  the  chirche  gon; 
Wei  sikerer  was  his  crowing  in  his  logge 
Than  is  a  clokke,  or  an  abbey  orlogge. 
By  nature  knew  he  ech  ascencioun 
Of  equinoxial  in  thilke  toun; 
For  whan  degrees  fiftene  were  ascended, 
Than  crew  he  that  it  mighte  nat  ben  amended. 
His  comb  was  redder  than  the  fyn  coral, 
And  batailed  as  it  were  a  castel-wal. 
His  bile  was  blak,  and  as  the  leet  it  shoon; 
Lyk  asur  were  his  legges  and  his  toon; 
His  navies  whytter  than  the  lilie  flour, 
And  lyk  the  burned  gold  was  his  colour. 
This  gentil  cok  had  in  his  governaunce 
Sevene  hennes  for  to  doon  al  his  plesaunce, 

Sk.,  B,  4019-4056 


346  CHAUCER  47-84 

Which  were  his  sustres  and  his  paramours, 
And  wonder  lyk  to  him  as  of  colours. 
Of  which  the  faireste  hewed  on  hir  throte 
Was  cleped  faire  damoysele  Pertelote. 
Curteys  she  was,  discreet,  and  debonaire, 
And  compaignable,  and  bar  hir-self  so  faire 
Sin  thilke  day  that  she  was  sevene  night  old 
That  trewely  she  hath  the  herte  in  hold 
Of  Chauntecleer  loken  in  every  lith; 
He  loved  hir  so  that  wel  was  him  therwith. 
But  such  a  loye  was  it  to  here  hem  singe, 
Whan  that  the  brighte  sonne  gan  to  springe, 
In  swete  accord,  "My  lief  is  faren  in  londe." 
For  thilke  tyme,  as  I  have  understonde, 
Bestes  and  briddes  coude  speke  and  singe. 

And  so  bifel  that  in  a  daweninge, 
As  Chauntecleer  among  his  wyves  alle 
Sat  on  his  perche,  that  was  in  the  halle, 
And  next  him  sat  this  faire  Pertelote, 
This  Chauntecleer  gan  gronen  in  his  throte, 
As  man  that  in  his  dreem  is  drecched  sore. 
And  whan  that  Pertelote  thus  herde  him  rore, 
She  was  agast,  and  seyde,  "  O  herte  dere, 
What  eyleth  yow  to  grone  in  this  manere? 
Ye  ben  a  verray  sleper,  fy  for  shame!" 
And  he  answerde  and  seyde  thus:    "Madame, 
I  pray  yow  that  ye  take  it  nat  a-grief : 
By  God,  me  mette  I  was  in  swich  meschief 
Right  now  that  yet  myn  herte  is  sore  afright. 
Now  God,"  quod  he,  "  my  swevene.  recche  aright, 
And  keep  my  body  out  of  foul  prisoun! 
Me  mette  how  that  I  romed  up  and  doun 
With-in  our  yerd,  wher-as  I  saugh  a  beest, 
Was  lyk  an  hound,  and  wolde  han  maad  arest 
Upon  my  body,  and  wolde  han  had  me  deed. 
His  colour  was  bitwixe  yelwe  and  reed; 
And  tipped  was  his  tail  and  bothe  his  eres 
With  blak,  unlyk  the  remenant  of  his  heres; 

Sk.,  B,  4057-4094 


85-122  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  347 

His  snowte  smal,  with  glowing  eyen  tweye. 
Yet  of  his  look  for  fere  almost  I  deye: 
This  caused  me  my  groning  doutelees." 

"Avoy!"  quod  she,  "fy  on  yow,  hertelees! 
Alias!"  quod  she,  "for  by  that  God  above, 
Now  han  ye  lost  myn  herte  and  al  my  love. 
I  can  nat  love  a  coward,  by  my  feith. 
For  certes,  what  so  any  womman  seith, 
We  alle  desyren,  if  it  mighte  be, 
To  han  housbondes  hardy,  wyse,  and  free, 
And  secree,  and  no  nigard,  ne  no  fool, 
Ne  him  that  is  agast  of  every  tool, 
Ne  noon  avauntour,  by  that  God  above! 
How  dorste  ye  seyn  for  shame  unto  your  love 
That  any  thing  mighte  make  yow  aferd? 
Have  ye  no  mannes  herte,  and  han  a  berd? 
Alias!  and  conne  ye  been  agast  of  swevenis? 
No-thing,  God  wot,  but  vanitee  in  swevene  is. 
Swevenes  engendren  of  replecciouns, 
And  of te  of  fume  and  of  complecciouns, 
Whan  humours  been  to  habundant  in  a  wight. 
Certes  this  dreem,  which  ye  han  met  to-night, 
Cometh  of  the  grete  superfluitee 
Of  your  rede  colera,  pardee, 
Which  causeth  folk  to  dreden  in  here  dremes 
Of  arwes,  and  of  fyr  with  rede  lemes, 
Of  grete  bestes,  that  they  wol  hem  byte, 
Of  contek,  and  of  whelpes  grete  and  lyte; 
Right  as  the  humour  of  malencolye 
Causeth  ful  many  a  man  in  sleep  to  crye 
For  fere  of  blake  beres  or  boles  blake, 
Or  elles  blake  develes  wole  hem  take. 
Of  othere  humours  coude  I  telle  also 
That  werken  many  a  man  in  sleep  ful  wo; 
But  I  wol  passe  as  lightly  as  I  can. 

"  Lo,  Catoun,  which  that  was  so  wys  a  man, 
Seyde  he  nat  thus,  ne  do  no  fors  of  dremes? 
Now  sir,"  quod  she,  "  whan  we  flee  fro  the  bemes, 

Sk.,  B,  4095-4132 


348  CHAUCER  123-160 

For  Goddes  love,  as  tak  som  laxatyf . 

Up  peril  of  my  soule,  and  of  my  lyf , 

I  counseille  yow  the  beste,  I  wol  nat  lye, 

That  bothe  of  colere  and  of  malencolye 

Ye  purge  yow;  and  for  ye  shul  nat  tarie, 

Though  in  this  toun  is  noon  apotecarie, 

I  shal  my-self  to  herbes  techen  yow 

That  shul  ben  for  your  hele  and  for  your  prow. 

Ye  been  ful  colerik  of  compleccioun. 

Ware  the  sonne  in  his  ascencioun 

Ne  fynde  yow  nat  repleet  of  humours  hote; 

And  if  it  do,  I  dar  wel  leye  a  grote 

That  ye  shul  have  a  fevere  terciane 

Or  an  agu  that  may  be  your  bane. 

A  day  or  two  ye  shul  have  digestyves 

Of  wormes,  er  ye  take  your  laxatyves, 

Of  lauriol,  centaure,  and  fumetere, 

Or  elles  of  ellebor,  that  groweth  there, 

Of  catapuce,  or  of  gaytres  beryis, 

Of  erbe  yve,  growing  in  our  yerd,  that  merye  is: 

Pekke  hem  up  right  as  they  growe  and  etc  hem  in. 

Be  merye,  housbonde,  for  your  fader  kin! 

Dredeth  no  dreem;  I  can  say  yow  na-more." 

"  Madame/'  quod  he,  "graunt  mercy  of  your  lore. 
But  nathelees,  as  touching  Daun  Catoun, 
That  hath  of  wisdom  such  a  greet  renoun, 
Though  that  he  bad  no  dremes  for  to  drede, 
By  God,  men  may  in  olde  bokes  rede 
Of  many  a  man,  more  of  auctoritee 
Than  evere  Catoun  was,  so  mote  I  thee, 
That  al  the  revers  seyn  of  his  sentence, 
And  han  wel  founden  by  experience 
That  dremes  ben  significaciouns 
As  wel  of  loye  as  tribulaciouns 
That  folk  enduren  in  this  lyf  present. 
Ther  nedeth  make  of  this  noon  argument; 
The  verray  preve  sheweth  it  in  dede. 

"Oon  of  the  gretteste  auctours  that  men  rede 

Sk.,  B,  4133-4140;  4145-4174 


161-198  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  349 

Seith  thus,  that  whylom  two  felawes  wente 
On  pilgrimage  in  a  ful  good  entente; 
And  happed  so  they  come  into  a  toun 
Wher-as  ther  was  swich  congregacioun 
Of  peple,  and  eek  so  streit  of  herbergage, 
That  they  ne  founde  as  muche  as  o  cotage 
In  which  they  bothe  mighte  y-logged  be. 
Wherfore  they  mosten,  of  necessitee, 
As  for  that  night  departen  companye; 
And  ech  of  hem  goth  to  his  hostelrye, 
And  took  his  logging  as  it  wolde  falle. 
That  oon  of  hem  was  logged  in  a  stalle 
Fer  in  a  yerd  with  oxen  of  the  plough; 
That  other  man  was  logged  wel  y-nough, 
As  was  his  aventure  or  his  fortune, 
That  us  governeth  alle  as  in  commune. 

"  And  so  bifel  that  longe  er  it  were  day 
This  man  mette  in  his  bed,  ther-as  he  lay, 
How  that  his  felawe  gan  up-on  him  calle, 
And  seyde,  '  Alias,  for  in  an  oxes  stalle 
This  night  I  shal  be  mordred  ther  I  lye. 
Now  help  me,  dere  brother,  er  I  dye; 
In  alle  haste  com  to  me,'  he  sayde. 
This  man  out  of  his  sleep  for  fere  abrayde; 
But  whan  that  he  was  wakned  of  his  sleep, 
He  turned  him  and  took  of  this  no  keep; 
Him  thoughte  his  dreem  nas  but  a  vanitee. 
Thus  twyes  in  his  sleping  dremed  he. 
And  atte  thridde  tyme  yet  his  felawe 
Cam,  as  him  thoughte,  and  seide,  'I  am  now  slawe; 
Bihold  my  blody  woundes  depe  and  wyde! 
Arys  up  erly  in  the  morwe-tyde, 
And  at  the  west  gate  of  the  toun,'  quod  he, 
'  A  carte  ful  of  donge  ther  shaltow  see 
In  which  my  body  is  hid  ful  prively; 
Do  thilke  carte  aresten  boldely. 
My  gold  caused  my  mordre,  sooth  to  sayn;' 
And  tolde  him  every  poynt  how  he  was  slayn, 

Sk.,  B,  4175-4212 


350  CHAUCER  199-236 

With  a  ful  pitous  face,  pale  of  hewe. 

And  truste  wel  his  dreem  he  fond  ful  trewe; 

For  on  the  morwe,  as  sone  as  it  was  day, 

To  his  felawes  in  he  took  the  way. 

And  whan  that  he  cam  to  this  oxes  stalle, 

After  his  felawe  he  bigan  to  calle. 

"The  hostiler  answerde  him  anon, 
And  seyde,  'Sir,  your  felawe  is  agon; 
As  sone  as  day  he  wente  out  of  the  toun.' 
This  man  gan  fallen  in  suspecioun, 
Remembring  on  his  dremes  that  he  mette, 
And  forth  he  goth,  no  lenger  wolde  he  lette, 
Unto  the  west  gate  of  the  toun  and  fond 
A  dong-carte,  as  it  were  to  donge  lond, 
That  was  arrayed  in  the  same  wyse 
As  ye  han  herd  the  dede  man  devyse; 
And  with  an  hardy  herte  he  gan  to  crye 
Vengeaunce  and  Justice  of  this  felonye: 
'  My  felawe  mordred  is  this  same  night, 
And  in  this  carte  he  lyth  gaping  upright. 
I  crye  oute  on  the  ministres,'  quod  he, 
'That  sholden  kepe  and  reulen  this  citee. 
Harrow!  alias!  her  lyth  my  felawe  slayn!' 
What  sholde  I  more  un-to  this  tale  sayn? 
The  peple  oute-sterte,  and  caste  the  carte  to  grounde, 
And  in  the  middel  of  the  dong  they  f  ounde 
The  dede  man,  that  mordred  was  al  newe. 

"O  blisful  God,  that  art  so  lust  and  trewe! 
Lo,  how  that  thou  biwreyest  mordre  alway! 
Mordre  wol  oute,  that  see  we  day  by  day. 
Mordre  is  so  wlatsom  and  abhominable 
To  God,  that  is  so  lust  and  resonable, 
That  he  ne  wol  nat  suffre  it  heled  be; 
Though  it  abyde  a  yeer  or  two  or  three, 
Mordre  wol  oute,  this  my  conclusioun. 
And  right  anoon,  ministres  of  that  toun 
Han  hent  the  carter  and  so  sore  him  pyned, 
And  eek  the  hostiler  so  sore  engyned, 

Sk.,  B,  4213-4250 


237-274         THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  351 

That  they  biknewe  hir  wikkednesse  anoon, 
And  were  an-hanged  by  the  nekke-boon. 

"Heer  may  men  seen  that  dremes  been  to  drede. 
And  certes,  in  the  same  book  I  rede 
Right  in  the  nexte  chapitre  after  this 
(I  gabbe  nat,  so  have  I  loye  or  blis) 
Two  men  that  wolde  han  passed  over  see 
For  certeyn  cause  in-to  a  fer  contree, 
If  that  the  wind  ne  hadde  been  contrarie, 
That  made  hem  in  a  citee  for  to  tarie, 
That  stood  ful  merye  upon  an  haven-syde. 
But  on  a  day,  agayn  the  even-tyde, 
The  wind  gan  chaunge,  and  blew  right  as  hem  leste. 
lolif  and  glad  they  wente  un-to  hir  reste, 
And  casten  hem  ful  erly  for  to  saille; 
But  to  that  oo  man  fil  a  greet  mervaille. 
That  oon  of  hem  in  sleping  as  he  lay 
Him  mette  a  wonder  dreem  agayn  the  day. 
Him  thoughte  a  man  stood  by  his  beddes  syde, 
And  him  comaunded  that  he  sholde  abyde, 
And  seyde  him  thus:  'If  thou  to-morwe  wende, 
Thou  shalt  be  dreynt;  my  tale  is  at  an  ende.' 
He  wook,  and  tolde  his  felawe  what  he  mette, 
And  preyde  him  his  viage  for  to  lette; 
As  for  that  day  he  preyde  him  to  abyde. 
His  felawe,  that  lay  by  his  beddes  syde, 
Gan  for  to  laughe,  and  scorned  him  ful  faste. 
'No  dreem,'  quod  he,  'may  so  myn  herte  agaste 
That  I  wol  lette  for  to  do  my  thinges, 
I  sette  not  a  straw  by  thy  dreminges; 
For  swevenes  been  but  vanitees  and  lapes. 
Men  dreme  al-day  of  owles  or  of  apes, 
And  eek  of  many  a  mase  therwithal; 
Men  dreme  of  thing  that  nevere  was  ne  shal. 
But  sith  I  see  that  thou  wolt  heer  abyde, 
And  thus  for-sleuthen  wilfully  thy  tyde, 
God  wot  it  reweth  me;  and  have,  good  day.' 
And  thus  he  took  his  leve,  and  wente  his  way. 

Sk.,B,  4251-4288 


352  CHAUCER  275-312 

But  er  that  he  had  half  his  cours  y-seyled, 

Noot  I  nat  why,  ne  what  mischaunce  it  eyled, 

But  casuelly  the  shippes  botme  rente, 

And  ship  and  man  under  the  water  wente 

In  sighte  of  othere  shippes  it  byside, 

That  with  hem  seyled  at  the  same  tyde. 

And  therfore,  faire  Pertelote  so  dere, 

By  swiche  ensamples  olde  maistow  lere, 

That  no  man  sholde  been  to  recchelees 

Of  dremes,  for  I  sey  thee,  doutelees, 

That  many  a  dreem  ful  sore  is  for  to  drede. 

"Lo,  in  the  lyf  of  Seint  Kenelm,  I  rede, 
That  was  Kenulphus  sone,  the  noble  king 
Of  Mercenrike,  how  Kenelm  mette  a  thing; 
A  lyte  er  he  was  mordred  on  a  day, 
His  mordre  in  his  avisioun  he  say. 
His  norice  him  expouned  every  del 
His  sweven,  and  bad  him  for  to  kepe  him  wel 
For  traisoun;  but  he  nas  but  sevene  yeer  okt, 
And  therfore  litel  tale  hath  he  told 
Of  any  dreem,  so  holy  was  his  herte. 
By  God,  I  hadde  lever  than  my  sherte 
That  ye  had  red  his  legende  as  have  I. 
Dame  Pertelote,  I  sey  yow  trewely, 
Macrobeus,  that  writ  the  avisioun 
In  Affrike  of  the  worthy  Cipioun, 
Affermeth  dremes,  and  seith  that  they  been 
Warning  of  thinges  that  men  after  seen. 

And  forther-more,  I  pray  yow  loketh  wel 
In  the  Olde  Testament  of  Daniel 
If  he  held  dremes  any  vanitee. 
Reed  eek  of  loseph,  and  ther  shul  ye  see 
Wrier  dremes  ben  somtyme  (I  sey  nat  alle) 
Warning  of  thinges  that  shul  after  falle. 
Loke  of  Egipt  the  king,  Daun  Pharao, 
His  baker  and  his  boteler  also, 
Wher  they  ne  felte  noon  effect  in  dremes. 
Who-so  wol  seken  actes  of  sondry  remes, 

Sk.. B,  4289-4326 


313-350  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  353 

May  rede  of  dremes  many  a  wonder  thing. 

"Lo  Cresus,  which  that  was  of  Lyde  king, 
Mette  he  nat  that  he  sat  upon  a  tree, 
Which  signified  he  sholde  anhanged  be? 
Lo  heer  Andromacha,  Ectores  wyf, 
That  day  that  Ector  sholde  lese  his  lyf, 
She  dremed  on  the  same  night  biforn 
How  that  the  lyf  of  Ector  sholde  be  lorn 
If  thilke  day  he  wente  in- to  bataille; 
She  warned  him,  but  it  mighte  nat  availle; 
He  wente  for  to  fighte  nathelees, 
But  he  was  slayn  anoon  of  Achilles. 
But  thilke  tale  is  al  to  long  to  telle; 
And  eek  it  is  ny  day,  I  may  nat  dwelle. 
Shortly  I  seye,  as  for  conclusioun, 
That  I  shal  han  of  this  avisioun 
Adversitee;  and  I  seye  forther-moor 
That  I  ne  telle  of  laxatyves  no  stoor, 
For  they  ben  venimous,  I  woot  it  wel; 
I  hem  defye,  I  love  hem  nevere  a  del. 

"Now  let  us  speke  of  mirthe,  and  stinte  al  this. 
Madame  Pertelote,  so  have  I  blis, 
Of  o  thing  God  hath  sent  me  large  grace; 
For  whan  I  see  the  beautee  of  your  face, 
Ye  ben  so  scarlet-reed  aboute  your  yen, 
It  maketh  al  my  drede  for  to  dyen. 
For  also  siker  as  '  In  principio,' 
'  Mulier  est  hominis  confusio; ' 
Madame,  the  sentence  of  this  Latin  is 
'Woman  is  mannes  loye  and  al  his  blis.' 
For  whan  I  fele  a-night  your  sof te  syde, 
Al-be-it  that  I  may  nat  on  you  ryde, 
For  that  our  perche  is  maad  so  narwe,  alas! 
I  am  so  ful  of  loye  and  of  solas 
That  I  defye  bo  the  sweven  and  dreem." 
And  with  that  word  he  fley  doun  fro  the  beem, 
For  it  was  day,  and  eek  his  hennes  alle; 
And  with  a  chuk  he  gan  hem  for  to  calle, 

Sk.,  B,  4327-4364 


354  CHAUCER  351-388 

For  he  had  founde  a  corn,  lay  in  the  yerd. 
Royal  he  was,  he  was  namore  af erd ; 
He  loketh  as  it  were  a  grim  leoun, 
And  on  his  toes  he  rometh  up  and  doun, — 
Him  deyned  not  to  sette  his  foot  to  grounde. 
He  chukketh  whan  he  hath  a  corn  y-founde, 
And  to  him  renneth  than  his  wyves  alle. 
Thus  royal  as  a  prince  is  in  his  halle 
Leve  I  this  Chauntecleer  in  his  pasture; 
And  after  wol  I  telle  his  aventure. 

Whan  that  the  month  in  which  the  world  bigan, 
That  highte  March,  whan  God  first  maked  man, 
Was  complet,  and  y-passed  were  also, 
Sin  March  bigan,  thritty  dayes  and  two, 
Bifel  that  Chauntecleer  in  al  his  pryde, 
His  sevene  wyves  walking  by  his  syde, 
Caste  up  his  eyen  to  the  brighte  sonne, 
That  in  the  signe  of  Taurus  had  y-ronne 
Twenty  degrees  and  oon  and  somwhat  more; 
And  knew  by  kinde  and  by  noon  other  lore 
That  it  was  pryme,  and  crew  with  blisful  stevene. 
"The  sonne,"  he  sayde,  "is  clomben  up  on  hevene 
Fourty  degrees  and  oon  and  more,  y-wis. 
Madame  Pertelote,  my  worldes  blis, 
Herkneth  thise  blisful  briddes  how  they  singe, 
And  see  the  fresshe  floures  how  they  springe. 
Ful  is  myn  herte  of  revel  and  solas!" 
But  sodeinly  him  fil  a  sorweful  cas; 
For  evere  the  latter  ende  of  loye  is  wo. 
God  woot  that  worldly  loye  is  sone  ago; 
And  if  a  rethor  coude  faire  endyte, 
He  in  a  cronique  saufly  mighte  it  wryte 
As  for  a  sovereyn  notabilitee. 
Now  every  wys  man,  lat  him  herkne  me: 
This  storie  is  al-so  trewe,  I  undertake, 
As  is  the  book  of  Launcelot  de  Lake, 
That  wommen  holde  in  ful  gret  reverence. 
Now  wol  I  torne  agayn  to  my  sentence. 

Sk.,  B, 4365-4366;  4369-4404 


-426  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  355 

A  col-fox  ful  of  sly  iniquitee, 
That  in  the  grove  had  woned  yeres  three, 
By  heigh  imaginacioun  forn-cast 
The  same  night  thurgh-oute  the  hegges  brast 
Into  the  yerd  ther  Chauntecleer  the  faire 
Was  wont,  and  eek  his  wyves,  to  repaire; 
And  in  a  bed  of  wortes  stille  he  lay 
Til  it  was  passed  undern  of  the  day, 
Wayting  his  tyme  on  Chauntecleer  to  falle, 
As  gladly  doon  thise  homicydes  alle 
That  in  awayt  liggen  to  mordre  men. 
O  false  mordrer  lurking  in  thy  den! 
O  newe  Scariot,  newe  Genilon! 
False  dissimilour,  O  Greek  Sinon, 
That  broghtest  Troye  al  outrely  to  sorwe! 

0  Chauntecleer,  acursed  be  that  morwe 

That  thou  into  that  yerd  flough  fro  the  bemes! 
Thou  were  ful  wel  y-warned  by  thy  dremes 
That  thilke  day  was  perilous  to  thee. 
But  what  that  God  forwoot  mot  nedes  be, 
After  the  opinioun  of  certeyn  clerkis. 
Witnesse  on  him  that  any  perfit  clerk  is, 
That  in  scole  is  gret  altercacioun 
In  this  matere,  and  greet  disputisoun, 
And  hath  ben  of  an  hundred  thousand  men. 
But  I  ne  can  not  bulte  it  to  the  bren 
As  can  the  holy  doctour  Augustyn, 
Or  Boece,  or  the  bishop  Bradwardyn, 
Whether  that  Goddes  worthy  forwiting 
Streyneth  me  nedely  for  to  doon  a  thing 
(Nedely  clepe  I  simple  necessitee) ; 
Or  ell^s,  if  that  free  choys  be  graunted  me 
To  do  that  same  thing  or  do  it  noght, 
Though  God  forwoot  it  er  that  it  was  wroght; 
Or  if  his  witing  streyneth  nevere  a  del 
But  by  necessitee  condicionel. 

1  wol  not  han  to  do  of  swich  matere; 
My  tale  is  of  a  cok,  as  ye  may  here/ 

Sk.,  B,  4405-4442 


356  CHAUCER  427-164 

That  took  his  counseil  of  his  wyf,  with  sorwe, 
To  walken  in  the  yerd  upon  that  morwe 
That  he  had  met  the  dreem  that  I  yow  tolde. 
Wommennes  counseils  been  ful  ofte  colde; 
Wommannes  counseil  broghte  us  first  to  wo, 
And  made  Adam  fro  Paradys  to  go, 
Ther-as  he  was  ful  merye  and  wel  at  ese. 
But  for  I  noot  to  whom  it  mighte  displese 
If  I  counseil  of  wommen  wolde  blame, 
Passe  over,  for  I  seyde  it  in  my  game. 
Rede  auctours,  wher  they  trete  of  swich  matere, 
And  what  they  seyn  of  wommen  ye  may  here. 
Thise  been  the  cokkes  wordes  and  nat  myne; 
I  can  noon  harm  of  no  womman  divyne. 

Faire  in  the  sond,  to  bathe  hir  merily. 
Lyth  Pertelote,  and  alle  hir  sustres  by, 
Agayn  the  sonne;  and  Chauntecleer  so  free 
Song  merier  than  the  mermayde  in  the  see: 
For  Phisiologus  seith  sikerly 
How  that  they  singen  wel  and  merily. 
And  so  bifel  that  as  he  caste  his  ye 
Among  the  wortes  on  a  boterflye, 
He  was  war  of  this  fox  that  lay  ful  lowe. 
No-thing  ne  liste  him  thanne  for  to  crowe, 
But  cryde  anon  "Cok,  cok,"  and  up  he  sterte 
As  man  that  was  affrayed  in  his  herte. 
For  naturelly  a  beest  desyreth  flee 
Fro  his  contrarie  if  he  may  it  see, 
Though  he  nevere  erst  had  seyn  it  with  his  ye. 

This  Chauntecleer,  whan  he  gan  him  espye, 
He  wolde  han  fled,  but  that  the  fox  anon 
Seyde,  "Gentil  sir,  alias!  wher  wol  ye  gon? 
Be  ye  affrayed  of  me  that  am  your  freend? 
Now  certes,  I  were  worse  than  a  feend 
If  I  to  yow  wolde  harm  or  vileinye. 
I  am  not  come  your  counseil  for  tespye; 
But  trewely,  the  cause  of  my  cominge 
Was  only  for  to  herkne  how  that  ye  singe. 

Sk.,  B,  4443-4480 


465-502  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  357 

For  trewely  ye  have  as  merye  a  stevene 
As  eny  aungel  hath  that  is  in  hevene; 
Therwith  ye  han  in  musik  more  felinge 
Than  had  Boece  or  any  that  can  singe. 
My  lord  your  fader  (God  his  soule  blesse!) 
And  eek  your  moder,  of  hir  gentilesse, 
Han  in  myn  hous  y-been,  to  my  gret  ese. 
And  certes,  sir,  ful  fayn  wolde  I  yow  plese. 
But  for  men  speke  of  singing,  I  wol  saye, 
So  mote  I  brouke  wel  myn  eyen  tweye, 
Save  yow  I  herde  nevere  man  so  singe 
As  did  your  fader  in  the  morweninge; 
Certes,  it  was  of  herte  al  that  he  song. 
And  for  to  make  his  voys  the  more  strong, 
He  wolde  so  peyne  him  that  with  bothe  his  yen 
He  moste  winke,  so  loude  he  wolde  cryen, 
And  stonden  on  his  tiptoon  ther-with-al, 
And  strecche  forth  his  nekke  long  and  smal. 
And  eek  he  was  of  swich  discrecioun 
That  ther  nas  no  man  in  no  regioun 
That  him  in  song  or  wisdom  mighte  passe. 
I  have  wel  rad  in  Daun  Burnel  the  Asse, 
Among  his  vers,  how  that  ther  was  a  cok, 
For  that  a  preestes  sone  yaf  him  a  knok 
Upon  his  leg  whyl  he  was  yong  and  nyce, 
He  made  him  for  to  lese  his  benefyce. 
But  certeyn,  ther  nis  no  comparisoun 
Bitwix  the  wisdom  and  discrecioun 
Of  youre  fader,  and  of  his  subtiltee. 
Now  singeth,  sir,  for  seinte  charitee, 
Lat  see,  conne  ye  your  fader  countrefete?  " 
This  Chauntecleer  his  winges  gan  to  bete 
As  man  that  coude  his  tresoun  nat  espye, 
So  was  he  ravisshed  with  his  flaterye. 
Alias!  ye  lordes,  many  a  fals  flatour 
Is  in  your  courtes,  and  many  a  losengour, 
That  plesen  yow  wel  more,  by  my  feith, 
Than  he  that  soothfastnesse  unto  yow  seith. 

Sk.,  B,  4481-4518 


358  CHAUCER  503-540 

Redeth  Ecclesiaste  of  flaterye; 
Beth  war,  ye  lordes,  of  hir  trecherye. 

This  Chauntecleer  stood  hye  up-on  his  toos, 
Strecching  his  nekke,  and  heeld  his  eyen  cloos, 
And  gan  to  crowe  loude  for  the  nones; 
And  Daun  Russel  the  fox  sterte  up  at  ones, 
And  by  the  gargat  hente  Chauntecleer, 
And  on  his  bak  toward  the  wode  him  beer, 
For  yet  ne  was  ther  no  man  that  him  sewed. 
O  destinee,  that  mayst  nat  been  eschewed! 
Alias,  that  Chauntecleer  Heigh  fro  the  bemes! 
Alias,  his  wyf  ne  roghte  nat  of  dremes! 
And  on  a  Friday  fil  al  this  meschaunce. 
O  Venus,  that  art  goddesse  of  plesaunce, 
Sin  that  thy  servant  was  this  Chauntecleer, 
And  in  thy  service  did  al  his  poweer, 
More  for  delyt  than  world  to  multiplye, 
Why  woldestow  suffre  him  on  thy  day  to  dye? 
O  Gaufred,  dere  mayster  soverayn, 
That,  whan  thy  worthy  King  Richard  was  slayn 
With  shot,  compleynedest  his  deth  so  sore, 
Why  ne  had  I  now  thy  sentence  and  thy  lore 
The  Friday  for  to  chide  as  diden  ye? 
(For  on  a  Friday  soothly  slayn  was  he.) 
Than  wolde  I  shewe  yow  how  that  I  coude  pleyne 
For  Chauntecleres  drede  and  for  his  peyne. 

Certes,  swich  cry  ne  lamentacioun 
Was  nevere  of  ladies  maad  whan  Ilioun 
Was  wonne,  and  Pirrus  with  his  streite  swerd, 
Whan  he  had  hent  King  Priam  by  the  berd 
And  slain  him — as  saith  us  Eneydos — 
As  maden  alle  the  hennes  in  the  clos 
Whan  they  had  seyn  of  Chauntecleer  the  sighte. 
But  sovereynly  Dame  Pertelote  shrighte 
Ful  louder  than  did  Hasdrubales  wyf 
Whan  that  hir  housbonde  hadde  lost  his  lyf , 
And  that  the  Romayns  hadde  brend  Cartage; 
She  was  so  ful  of  torment  and  of  rage 

Sk.,  B,  4519-4556 


541-578  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  359 

That  wilfully  into  the  fyr  she  sterte 

And  brende  hir-selven  with  a  stedfast  herte. 

O  woful  hennes,  right  so  cryden  ye 

As,  whan  that  Nero  brende  the  citee 

Of  Rome,  cryden  senatoures  wyves 

For  that  hir  housbondes  losten  alle  hir  lyves: 

With-outen  gilt  this  Nero  hath  hem  slayn. 

Now  wol  I  torne  to  my  tale  agayn. 

This  sely  widwe  and  eek  hir  doghtres  two 
Herden  thise  hennes  crye  and  maken  wo, 
And  oute  at  dores  sterten  they  anoon, 
And  syen  the  fox  toward  the  grove  goon, 
And  bar  upon  his  bak  the  cok  away; 
And  cryden,  "Oute!  harrow!  and  weylaway! 
Ha,  ha,  the  fox!"  and  after  him  they  ran, 
And  eek  with  staves  many  another  man; 
Ran  Colle  our  dogge,  and  Talbot,  and  Gerland, 
And  Malkin  with  a  distaf  in  hir  hand; 
Ran  cow  and  calf,  and  eek  the  verray  hogges 
So  were  they  fered  for  berking  of  the  dogges 
And  shouting  of  the  men  and  wimmen  eke, 
They  ronne  so,  hem  thoughte  hir  herte  breke. 
They  yelleden  as  feendes  doon  in  helle; 
The  dokes  cryden  as  men  wolde  hem  quelle; 
The  gees  for  fere  flowen  over  the  trees; 
Out  of  the  hyve  cam  the  swarm  of  bees. 
So  hidous  was  the  noyse,  a!  benedicitel 
Certes,  he  lakke  Straw  and  his  meynee 
Ne  made  nevere  shoutes  half  so  shrille 
Whan  that  they  wolden  any  Fleming  kille 
As  thilke  day  was  maad  upon  the  fox. 
Of  bras  they  broghten  bemes,  and  of  box, 
Of  horn,  of  boon,  in  which  they  blewe  and  pouped, 
And  therwithal  they  shryked  and  they  houped; 
It  semed  as  that  hevene  sholde  falle. 
Now,  gode  men,  I  pray  yow  herkneth  alle! 

Lo,  how  Fortune  turneth  sodeinly 
The  hope  and  pryde  eek  of  hir  enemy! 

Sk.,13,  4557-4594 


360  CHAUCER 


579-616 


This  cok,  that  lay  upon  the  foxes  bak 

In  al  his  drede,  un-to  the  fox  he  spak 

And  seyde,  "  Sir,  if  that  I  were  as  ye, 

Yet  sholde  I  seyn — as  wis  God  helpe  me! — 

'  Turneth  agayn,  ye  proude  cherles  alle! 

A  verray  pestilence  up-on  yow  falle! 

Now  am  I  come  un-to  this  wodes  syde, 

Maugree  your  heed  the  cok  shal  heer  abyde; 

I  wol  him  etc  in  feith  and  that  anon!'  " 

The  fox  answerde,  "In  feith,  it  shal  be  don;" — 

And  as  he  spak  that  word,  al  sodeinly 

This  cok  brak  from  his  mouth  deliverly, 

And  heighe  up-on  a  tree  he  fleigh  anon. 

And  whan  the  fox  saugh  that  he  was  y-gon, 

" Alias!"  quod  he,  "O  Chauntecleer,  alias! 

I  have  to  yow,"  quod  he,  "y-doon  trespas, 

In-as-muche  as  I  maked  yow  aferd 

Whan  I  yow  hente  and  broghte  out  of  the  yerd. 

But,  sir,  I  did  it  in  no  wikke  entente; 

Com  doun,  and  I  shal  telle  yow  what  I  mente. 

I  shal  seye  sooth  to  yow,  God  helpe  me  so!" 

"Nay  than,"  quod  he,  "I  shrewe  us  bothe  two, 

And  first  I  shrewe  my-self ,  bothe  blood  and  bones, 

If  thou  bigyle  me  ofter  than  ones. 

Thou  shalt  na-more  thurgh  thy  flaterye 

Do  me  to  singe  and  winke  with  myn  ye. 

For  he  that  winketh  whan  he  sholde  see, 

Al  wilfully,  God  lat  him  nevere  thee!" 

"Nay,"  quod  the  fox,  "but  God  yeve  him  meschaunce 

That  is  so  undiscreet  of  governaunce 

That  langleth  whan  he  sholde  holde  his  pees." 

Lo,  swich  it  is  for  to  be  recchelees, 
And  necligent,  and  truste  on  flaterye. 
But  ye  that  holden  this  tale  a  folye, 
As  of  a  fox  or  of  a  cok  and  hen, 
Taketh  the  moralitee,  good  men. 
For  Seint  Paul  seith  that  al  that  writen  is, 
To  our  doctryne  it  is  y-write,  y-wis. 

Sk.,  B,  4595-4632 


617-620.    1-27     THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  361 

Taketh  the  fruyt,  and  lat  the  chaf  be  stille. 

Now,  gode  God,  if  that  it  be  thy  wille, 
As  seith  my  lord,  so  make  us  alle  good  men; 
And  bringe  us  to  his  heighe  blisse.    Amen. 

Here  is  ended  the  Nonne  Preestes  Tale. 


The  wordes  of  the  Host  to  the  Pardoner. 

"Thou  bel  amy,  thou  Pardoner,"  he  seyde, 
"Telle  us  som  mirthe  or  lapes  right  anon.'* 
"It  shal  be  doon,"  quod  he,  "by  Seint  Ronyon! 
But  first,"  quod  he,  "heer  at  this  ale-stake 
I  wol  bo  the  drinke,  and  eten  of  a  cake." 

But  right  anon  thise  gentils  gonne  to  crye, 
"Nay!  lat  him  telle  us  of  no  ribaudye; 
Tel  us  som  moral  thing  that  we  may  lere 
Som  wit,  and  thanne  wol  we  gladly  here." 
"I  graunte,  y-wis,"  quod  he,  "but  I  mot  thinke 
Up-on  som  honest  thing  whyl  that  I  drinke." 

Here  folweth  the  Prologe  of  the  Pardoners  Tale. 

Lordings, — quod  he: — in  chirches  whan  I  preche, 

I  peyne  me  to  han  an  hauteyn  speche, 

And  ringe  it  oute  as  rounde  as  gooth  a  belle, 

For  I  can  al  by  rote  that  I  telle. 

My  theme  is  alwey  oon,  and  evere  was — 

"Radix  malorum  est  Cupiditas" 

First  I  pronounce  whennes  that  I  come, 
And  than  my  bulles  shewe  I,  alle  and  somme. 
Our  lige  lordes  seel  on  my  patente, 
That  shewe  I  first,  my  body  to  warente, 
That  no  man  be  so  bold,  ne  preest,  ne  clerk, 
Me  to  destourbe  of  Cristes  holy  werk; 
And  after  that  than  telle  I  forth  my  tales, — 
Bulles  of  popes  and  of  cardinales, 
Of  patriarkes  and  bishoppes  I  shewe; 
And  in  Latyn  I  speke  a  wordes  fewe 

Sk.,  B,  4633-4636;  C,  318-344 


362  CHAUCER  28-65 

To  saffron  with  my  predicacioun, 

And  for  to  stire  men  to  devocioun. 

Than  shewe  I  forth  my  longe  cristal  stones, 

Y-crammed  ful  of  cloutes  and  of  bones; 

Reliks  been  they,  as  wenen  they  echoon. 

Than  have  I  in  latoun  a  sholder-boon 

Which  that  was  of  an  holy  lewes  sheep. 

"Good  men,"  seye  I,  "tak  of  my  wordes  keep. 

If  that  this  boon  be  wasshe  in  any  welle, 

If  cow  or  calf  or  sheep  or  oxe  swelle 

That  any  worm  hath  etc,  or  worm  y-stonge, 

Tak  water  of  that  welle  and  wash  his  tonge, 

And  it  is  hool  anon;  and  forthermore, 

Of  pokkes  and  of  scabbe,  and  every  sore 

Shal  every  sheep  be  hool  that  of  this  welle 

Drinketh  a  draughte:  tak  keep  eek  what  I  telle. 

If  that  the  good  man  that  the  bestes  oweth 

Wol  every  wike,  er  that  the  cok  him  croweth, 

Fasting  drinken  of  this  welle  a  draughte, 

As  thilke  holy  lew  our  eldres  taughte, 

His  bestes  and  his  stoor  shal  multiplye. 

And,  sirs,  also  it  heleth  lalousye; 

For  though  a  man  be  falle  in  lalous  rage, 

Let  maken  with  this  water  his  potage 

And  nevere  shal  he  more  his  wyf  mistriste, 

Though  he  the  sooth  of  hir  defaute  wiste, 

Al  had  she  taken  preestes  two  or  three. 

"Heer  is  a  miteyn  eek  that  ye  may  see. 
He  that  his  hond  wol  putte  in  this  miteyn, 
He  shal  have  multiplying  of  his  greyn, 
Whan  he  hath  sowen,  be  it  whete  or  otes, 
So  that  he  offre  pens  or  elles  grotes. 

"Good  men  and  wommen,  o  thing  warne  I  yow; 
If  any  wight  be  in  this  chirche  now 
That  hath  doon  sinne  horrible,  that  he 
Dar  nat,  for  shame,  of  it  y-shriven  be, 
Or  any  womman,  be  she  yong  or  old, 
That  hath  y-maad  hir  housbond  cokewold, 

Sk.,  C,  345-382 


6fr-io3  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  363 

Swich  folk  shul  have  no  power  ne  no  grace 
To  offren  to  my  reliks  in  this  place. 
And  who-so  findeth  him  out  of  swich  blame, 
He  wol  come  up  and  offre  in  Goddes  name, 
And  I  assoille  him  by  the  auctoritee 
Which  that  by  bulle  y-graunted  was  to  me." 
By  this  gaude  have  I  wonne,  yeer  by  yeer, 
An  hundred  mark  sith  I  was  Pardoner. 
I  stonde  lyk  a  clerk  in  my  pulpet, 
And  whan  the  lewed  peple  is  doun  y-set, 
I  preche,  so  as  ye  han  herd  bifore, 
And  telle  an  hundred  false  lapes  more. 
Than  peyne  I  me  to  strecche  forth  the  nekke, 
And  est  and  west  upon  the  peple  I  bekke, 
As  doth  a  dowve  sitting  on  a  berne. 
Myn  hondes  and  my  tonge  goon  so  yerne 
That  it  is  loye  to  see  my  bisinesse. 
Of  avaryce  and  of  swich  cursednesse 
Is  al  my  preching,  for  to  make  hem  free 
To  yeve  her  pens,  and  namely  un-to  me. 
For  my  entente  is  nat  but  for  to  winne, 
And  no-thing  for  correccioun  of  sinne. 
I  rekke  nevere,  whan  that  they  ben  beried, 
Though  that  her  soules  goon  a-blakeberied! 
For  certes,  many  a  predicacioun 
Comth  ofte  tyme  of  yvel  entencioun; 
Som  for  plesaunce  of  folk  and  flaterye, 
To  been  avaunced  by  ipocrisye, 
And  som  for  veyne  glorie  and  som  for  hate. 
For  whan  I  dar  non  other  weyes  debate, 
Than  wol  I  stinge  him  with  my  tonge  smerte 
In  preching  so  that  he  shal  nat  asterte 
To  been  defamed  falsly,  if  that  he 
Hath  trespased  to  my  brethren  or  to  me. 
For,  though  I  telle  noght  his  propre  name, 
Men  shal  wel  knowe  that  it  is  the  same 
By  signes  and  by  othere  circumstances. 
Thus  quyte  I  folk  that  doon  us  displesances; 

Sk.,  C,  383-420 


364  CHAUCER 

Thus  spitte  I  oute  my  venim  under  hewe 
Of  holynesse,  to  seme  holy  and  trewe. 

But  shortly  myn  entente  I  wol  devyse: 
I  preche  no-thing  but  for  coveityse. 
Therfore  my  theme  is  yet,  and  evere  was — 
"Radix  malorum  est  cupiditas" 
Thus  can  I  preche  agayn  the  same  vyce 
Which  that  I  use,  and  that  is  avaryce. 
But,  though  my-self  be  gilty  in  that  sinne, 
Yet  can  I  maken  other  folk  to  twinne 
From  avaryce,  and  sore  to  repente. 
But  that  is  nat  my  principal  entente. 
I  preche  no- thing  but  for  coveityse; 
Of  this  matere  it  oughte  y-nogh  suffyse. 

Than  telle  I  hem  ensamples  many  oon 
Of  olde  stories  longe  tyme  agoon: 
For  lewed  peple  loven  tales  olde; 
Swich  thinges  can  they  wel  reporte  and  holde. 
What?  trowe  ye,  the  whyles  I  may  preche 
And  winne  gold  and  silver  for  I  teche, 
That  I  wol  live  in  poverte  wilfully? 
Nay,  nay,  I  thoghte  it  nevere  trewely! 
For  I  wol  preche  and  begge  in  sondry  londes, 
I  wol  not  do  no  labour  with  my  hondes, 
Ne  make  baskettes,  and  live  therby, 
Because  I  wol  nat  beggen  ydelly. 
I  wol  non  of  the  apostles  counterfete; 
I  WTO!  have  moneye,  wolle,  chese,  and  whete, 
Al  were  it  yeven  of  the  povrest  page, 
Or  of  the  povrest  widwe  in  a  village, 
Al  sholde  hir  children  sterve  for  famyne. 
Nay!  I  wol  drinke  licour  of  the  vyne, 
And  have  a  loly  wenche  in  every  toun. 
But  herkneth,  lordings,  in  conclusioun; 
Your  lyking  is  that  I  shal  telle  a  tale. 
Now  have  I  dronke  a  draughte  of  corny  ale, 
By  God,  I  hope  I  shal  yow  telle  a  thing 
That  shal  by  resoun  been  at  your  lyking. 

Sk.,  C,  421-458 


142-145.  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  365 

Pard.  T.,  1-28 

For  though  myself  be  a  ful  vicious  man, 
A  moral  tale  yet  I  yow  telle  can, 
Which  I  am  wont  to  preche  for  to  winne. 
Now  hold  your  pees,  my  tale  I  wol  beginne. 


THE  PARDONERS  TALE 

Here  biginneth  the  Pardoners  Tale. 

In  Flaundres  whylom  was  a  companye 

Of  yonge  folk  that  haunteden  folye, 

As  ryot,  hasard,  stewes,  and  tavernes, 

Wher-as  with  harpes,  lutes,  and  giternes, 

They  daunce  and  pleye  at  dees  bothe  day  and  night, 

And  ete  also  and  drinken  over  hir  might, 

Thurgh  which  they  doon  the  devel  sacrifyse 

With-in  that  develes  temple  in  cursed  wyse 

By  superfluitee  abhominable. 

Hir  othes  been  so  grete  and  so  dampnable 

That  it  is  grisly  for  to  here  hem  swere: 

Our  blissed  lordes  body  they  to-tere, 

Hem  thoughte  lewes  rente  him  noght  y-nough; 

And  ech  of  hem  at  otheres  sinne  lough. 

And  right  anon  than  comen  tombesteres 

Fetys  and  smale,  and  yonge  fruytesteres, 

Singers  with  harpes,  baudes,  wafereres, 

Which  been  the  verray  develes  officeres 

To  kindle  and  blowe  the  fyr  of  lecherye, 

That  is  annexed  un-to  glotonye. 

The  holy  writ  take  I  to  my  witnesse 

That  luxurie  is  in  wyn  and  dronkenesse. 

Lo,  how  that  dronken  Loth  unkindely 

Lay  by  his  doghtres  two  unwitingly; 

So  dronke  he  was,  he  niste  what  he  wroghte. 

Herodes  (who-so  wel  the  stories  soghte), 

Whan  he  of  wyn  was  replet  at  his  feste, 

Right  at  his  owene  table  he  yaf  his  heste 

Sk.,  C,  459-490 


366  CHAUCER  29-66 

To  sleen  the  Baptist  lohn  ful  giltelees. 

Senek  seith  eek  a  good  word  doutelees. 
He  seith  he  can  no  difference  finde 
Bitwix  a  man  that  is  out  of  his  minde 
And  a  man  which  that  is  dronkelewe, 
But  that  woodnesse  y-f alien  in  a  shrewe 
Persevereth  lenger  than  doth  dronkenesse. 
O  glotonye,  ful  of  cursednesse, 
O  cause  first  of  our  confusioun, 
O  original  of  our  dampnacioun, 
Til  Crist  had  boght  us  with  his  blood  agayn! 
Lo,  how  dere,  shortly  for  to  sayn, 
Aboght  was  thilke  cursed  vileinye; 
Corrupt  was  al  this  world  for  glotonye! 

Adam  our  fader  and  his  wyf  also 
From  Paradys  to  labour  and  to  wo 
Were  driven  for  that  vyce,  it  is  no  drede; 
For  whyl  that  Adam  fasted,  as  I  rede, 
He  was  in  Paradys,  and  whan  that  he 
Eet  of  the  fruyt  defended  on  the  tree, 
Anon  he  was  out-cast  to  wo  and  peyne. 
O  glotonye,  on  thee  wel  oghte  us  pleyne! 
O,  wiste  a  man  how  many  maladyes 
Folwen  of  excesse  and  of  glotonyes, 
He  wolde  been  the  more  mesurable 
Of  his  diete,  sitting  at  his  table. 
Alias!  the  shorte  throte,  the  tendre  mouth, 
Maketh  that  est  and  west  and  north  and  south, 
In  erthe,  in  eir,  in  water,  men  to-swinke 
To  gete  a  glotoun  deyntee  mete  and  drinke! 
Of  this  matere,  O  Paul,  wel  canstow  trete: 
"Mete  un-to  wombe,  and  wombe  eek  un-to  mete, 
Shal  God  destroyen  bothe,"  as  Paulus  seith. 
Alias!  a  foul  thing  is  it,  by  my  feith, 
To  seye  this  word,  and  fouler  is  the  dede, 
Whan  man  so  drinketh  of  the  whyte  and  rede 
That  of  his  throte  he  maketh  his  privee, 
Thurgh  thilke  cursed  superfluitee. 

Sk.,  C,  491-528 


67-104  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  367 

The  apostel  weping  seith  ful  pitously, 
"Ther  walken  many  of  which  yow  told  have  I, 
I  seye  it  now  weping  with  pitous  voys, 
That  they  been  enemys  of  Cristes  croys, 
Of  which  the  ende  is  deeth,  wombe  is  her  god." 
O  wombe!  O  bely!  O  stinking  cod! 
How  greet  labour  and  cost  is  thee  to  finde! 
Thise  cokes,  how  they  stampe,  and  streyne,  and  grinde, 
And  turnen  substaunce  in-to  accident 
To  fulfille  al  thy  likerous  talent! 
Out  of  the  harde  bones  knokke  they 
The  mary,  for  they  caste  noght  a-wey 
That  may  go  thurgh  the  golet  softe  and  swote; 
Of  spicerye,  of  leef,  and  bark,  and  rote 
Shal  been  his  sauce  y-maked  by  delyt 
To  make  him  yet  a  newer  appetyt. 
But  certes,  he  that  haunteth  swich  delyces 
Is  deed  whyl  that  he  liveth  in  tho  vyces. 

A  lecherous  thing  is  wyn,  and  dronkenesse 
Is  ful  of  stryving  and  of  wrecchednesse. 
O  dronke  man,  disfigured  is  thy  face, 
Sour  is  thy  breeth,  foul  artow  to  embrace, 
And  thurgh  thy  dronke  nose  semeth  the  soun 
As  though  thou  seydest  ay  "  Sampsoun,  Sampsoun; " 
And  yet,  God  wot,  Sampsoun  drank  nevere  no  wyn. 
Thou  fallest  as  it  were  a  stiked  swyn; 
Thy  tonge  is  lost,  and  al  thyn  honest  cure; 
For  dronkenesse  is  verray  sepulture 
Of  mannes  wit  and  his  discrecioun. 
In  whom  that  drinke  hath  dominacioun, 
He  can  no  conseil  kepe,  it  is  no  drede. 
Now  kepe  yow  fro  the  whyte  and  fro  the  rede, 
And  namely  fro  the  whyte  wyn  of  Lepe, 
That  is  to  selle  in  Fish-strete  or  in  Chepe. 
This  wyn  of  Spayne  crepeth  subtilly 
In  othere  wynes,  growing  faste  by, 
Of  which  ther  ryseth  swich  fumositee 
That  whan  a  man  hath  dronken  draughtes  three, 

Sk.,  C, 529-534;  537-568 


368  CHAUCER  105-142 

And  weneth  that  he  be  at  hoom  in  Chepe, 

He  is  in  Spayne,  right  at  the  toun  of  Lepe, 

Nat  at  the  Rochel,  ne  at  Burdeux  toun; 

And  thanne  wol  he  seye,  "Sampsoun,  Sampsoun." 

But  herkneth,  lordings,  o  word,  I  yow  preye, 
That  alle  the  sovereyn  actes,  dar  I  seye, 
Of  victories  in  the  Olde  Testament, 
Thurgh  verray  God  that  is  omnipotent, 
Were  doon  in  abstinence  and  in  preyere; 
Loketh  the  Bible  and  ther  ye  may  it  lere. 

Loke,  Attila,  the  grete  conquerour, 
Deyde  in  his  sleep  with  shame  and  dishonour 
Bleding  ay  at  his  nose  in  dronkenesse. 
A  capitayn  sholde  live  in  sobrenesse 
And  over  al  this,  avyseth  yow  right  wel 
What  was  comaunded  un-to  Lamuel — 
Nat  Samuel,  but  Lamuel,  seye  I — 
Redeth  the  Bible,  and  finde  it  expresly 
Of  wyn-yeving  to  hem  that  han  lustyse. 
Na-more  of  this,  for  it  may  wel  suffyse. 

And  now  that  I  have  spoke  of  glotonye, 
Now  wol  I  yow  defenden  hasardrye. 
Hasard  is  verray  moder  of  lesinges, 
And  of  deceit,  and  cursed  forsweringes, 
Blaspheme  of  Crist,  manslaughtre,  and  wast  also 
Of  catel  and  of  tyme;  and  forthermo, 
It  is  repreve  and  contrarie  of  honour 
For  to  ben  holde  a  commune  hasardour. 
And  evere  the  hyer  he  is  of  estaat, 
The  more  is  he  holden  desolaat. 
If  that  a  prince  useth  hasardrye, 
In  alle  governaunce  and  policye 
He  is,  as  by  commune  opinioun, 
Y-holde  the  lasse  in  reputacioun. 

Stilbon,  that  was  a  wys  embassadour, 
Was  sent  to  Corinthe  in  ful  greet  honour 
Fro  Lacidomie  to  make  hir  alliaunce. 
And  whan  he  cam,  him  happede  par  chaunce 

Sk.,  C,  569-606 


143-180  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  369 

That  all?  the  grettest  that  were  of  that  lond, 
Pleying  atte  hasard  he  hem  fond. 
For  which,  as  sone  as  it  mighte  be, 
He  stal  him  hoom  agayn  to  his  contree, 
And  seyde,  "Ther  wol  I  nat  lese  my  name; 
Ne  I  wol  nat  take  on  me  so  greet  defame 
Yow  for  to  allye  un-to  none  hasardours. 
Sendeth  othere  wyse  embassadours; 
For,  by  my  trouthe,  me  were  lever  dye 
Than  I  yow  sholde  to  hasardours  allye. 
For  ye  that  been  so  glorious  in  honours 
Shul  nat  allyen  yow  with  hasardours 
As  by  my  wille,  ne  as  by  my  tretee." 
This  wyse  philosophre,  thus  seyde  he. 

Loke  eek  that,  to  the  king  Demetrius 
The  king  of  Parthes,  as  the  book  seith  us, 
Sente  him  a  paire  of  dees  of  gold  in  scorn, 
For  he  had  used  hasard  ther-biforn; 
For  which  he  heeld  his  glorie  or  his  renoun 
At  no  value  or  reputacioun. 
Lordes  may  finden  other  maner  pley 
Honest  y-nough  to  dryve  the  day  awey. 

Now  wol  I  speke  of  othes  false  and  grete 
A  word  or  two,  as  olde  bokes  trete. 
Gret  swering  is  a  thing  abhominable, 
And  fals§  swering  is  yet  more  reprevable. 
The  heighe  God  forbad  swering  at  al, 
Witnesse  on  Mathew;  but  in  special 
Of  swering  seith  the  holy  leremye, 
"Thou  shalt  sey§  sooth  thyn  othes,  and  nat  lye, 
And  swere  in  doom  and  eek  in  rightwisnesse;" 
But  ydel  swering  is  a  cursednesse. 
Bihold  and  see  that  in  the  firste  table 
Of  heighe  Goddes  hestes  honurable 
How  that  the  second  heste  of  him  is  this — 
"Tak  nat  my  name  in  ydel  or  amis." 
Lo,  rather  he  forbedeth  swich  swering, 
Than  homicyde  or  many  a  cursed  thing; 

Sk.,  G  607-644 


370  CHAUCER  181-218 

I  seye  that  as  by  ordre  thus  it  stondeth; 
This  knowen,  that  his  hestes  understondeth, 
How  that  the  second  heste  of  God  is  that. 
And  forther  over,  I  wol  thee  telle  al  plat 
That  vengeance  shal  nat  parten  from  his  hous 
That  of  his  othes  is  to  outrageous. 
"By  Goddes  precious  herte,  and  by  his  nayles, 
And  by  the  blood  of  Crist,  that  it  is  in  Hayles, 
Sevene  is  my  chaunce,  and  thyn  is  cink  and  treye; 
By  Goddes  armes,  if  thou  falsly  pleye, 
This  daggere  shal  thurgh-oute  thyn  herte  go" — 
This  fruyt  cometh  of  the  bicched  bones  two: 
Forswering,  ire,  falsnesse,  homicyde. 
Now,  for  the  love  of  Crist  that  for  us  dyde, 
Leveth  your  othes,  bothe  grete  and  smale; 
But,  sirs,  now  wol  I  telle  forth  my  tale. 

Thise  ryotoures  three,  of  which  I  telle, 
Longe  erst  er  pryme  rong  of  any  belle, 
Were  set  hem  in  a  taverne  for  to  drinke; 
And  as  they  satte,  they  herde  a  belle  clinke 
Biforn  a  cors,  was  caried  to  his  grave. 
That  oon  of  hem  gan  callen  to  his  knave, 
"Go  bet,"  quod  he,  "and  axe  redily 
What  cors  is  this  that  passeth  heer  forby; 
And  loke  that  thou  reporte  his  name  wel." 

"Sir,"  quod  this  boy,  "it  nedeth  nevere-a-del. 
It  was  me  told,  er  ye  cam  heer,  two  houres. 
He  was,  pardee,  an  old  felawe  of  youres; 
And  sodeinly  he  was  y-slayn  to-night, 
For-dronke,  as  he  sat  on  his  bench  upright; 
Ther  cam  a  privee  theef  men  clepeth  Deeth, 
That  in  this  contree  al  the  peple  sleeth, 
And  with  his  spere  he  smoot  his  herte  a-two 
And  wente  his  wey  with-outen  wordes  mo. 
He  hath  a  thousand  slayn  this  pestilence: 
And,  maister,  er  ye  come  in  his  presence, 
Me  thinketh  that  it  were  a  necessarie 
For  to  be  war  of  swich  an  adversarie. 

Sk.,  C,  645-682 


219-256  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  371 

Beth  redy  for  to  mete  him  everemore. 

Thus  taughte  me  my  dame,  I  sey  na-more." 

"By  Seinte  Marie,"  seyde  this  taverner, 

"The  child  seith  sooth,  for  he  hath  slayn  this  yeer, 

Henne  over  a  myle,  with-in  a  greet  village, 

Bothe  man  and  womman,  child  and  hyne  and  page. 

I  trowe  his  habitacioun  be  there; 

To  been  avysed  greet  wisdom  it  were, 

Er  that  he  did  a  man  a  dishonour." 

"Ye,  Goddes  armes,"  quod  this  ryotour, 

"Is  it  swich  peril  with  him  for  to  mete? 

I  shal  him  seke  by  wey  and  eek  by  strete, 

I  make  avow  to  Goddes  digne  bones! 

Herkneth,  felawes,  we  three  been  al  ones; 

Lat  ech  of  us  holde  up  his  hond  til  other, 

And  ech  of  us  bicomen  otheres  brother, 

And  we  wol  sleen  this  false  traytour  Deeth. 

He  shal  be  slayn,  which  that  so  many  sleeth, 

By  Goddes  dignitee,  er  it  be  night." 

Togidres  han  thise  three  her  trouthes  plight 
To  live  and  dyen  ech  of  hem  for  other 
As  though  he  were  his  owene  y-boren  brother. 
And  up  they  sterte  al  dronken  in  this  rage, 
And  forth  they  goon  towardes  that  village 
Of  which  the  taverner  had  spoke  biforn; 
And  many  a  grisly  ooth  than  han  they  sworn, 
And  Cristes  blessed  body  they  to-rente, — 
Deeth  shal  be  deed,  if  that  they  may  him  hente! 

Whan  they  han  goon  nat  fully  half  a  myle, 
Right  as  they  wolde  han  troden  over  a  style, 
An  old  man  and  a  povre  with  hem  mette. 
This  olde  man  ful  mekely  hem  grette, 
And  seyde  thus,  "Now,  lordes,  God  yow  see!" 

The  proudest  of  thise  ryotoures  three 
Answerde  agayn,  "What?  carl,  with  sory  grace, 
Why  artow  al  forwrapped  save  thy  face? 
Why  livestow  so  longe  in  so  greet  age?" 

This  olde  man  gan  loke  in  his  visage, 

Sk..  C.  683-720 


372  CHAUCER  257-294 

And  seyde  thus,  "For  I  ne  can  nat  fmde 

A  man,  though  that  I  walked  in-to  Inde, 

Neither  in  citee  nor  in  no  village, 

That  wolde  chaunge  his  youthe  for  myn  age; 

And  therfore  moot  I  han  myn  age  stille 

As  longe  tyme  as  it  is  Goddes  wille. 

Ne  deeth,  alias!  ne  wol  nat  han  my  lyf. 

Thus  walke  I  lyk  a  restelees  caityf, 

And  on  the  ground,  which  is  my  modres  gate, 

I  knokke  with  my  staf  bothe  erly  and  late. 

And  seye,  'Leve  moder,  leet  me  in! 

Lo,  how  I  vanish,  flesh  and  blood  and  skin! 

Alias!  whan  shul  my  bones  been  at  reste? 

Moder,  with  yow  wolde  I  chaunge  my  cheste 

That  in  my  chambre  longe  tyme  hath  be, 

Ye,  for  an  heyre  clout  to  wrappe  me!' 

But  yet  to  me  she  wol  nat  do  that  grace, 

For  which  ful  pale  and  welked  is  my  face. 

"  But,  sirs,  to  yow  it  is  no  curteisye 
To  speken  to  an  old  man  vileinye, 
But  he  trespasse  in  word  or  elles  in  dede. 
In  holy  writ  ye  may  your-self  wel  rede, 
'Agayns  an  old  man,  hoor  upon  his  heed, 
Ye  sholde  aryse;'  wherfore  I  yeve  yow  reed, 
Ne  dooth  un-to  an  old  man  noon  harm  now, 
Na-more  than  ye  wolde  men  did  to  yow 
In  age,  if  that  ye  so  longe  abyde. 
And  God  be  with  yow  wher  ye  go  or  ryde: 
I  moot  go  thider  as  I  have  to  go." 

"Nay,  olde  cherl,  by  God,  thou  shalt  nat  so," 
Seyde  this  other  hasardour  anon; 
"Thou  partest  nat  so  lightly,  by  Seint  lohn! 
Thou  spak  right  now  of  thilke  traitour  Deeth, 
That  in  this  contree  alle  our  f  rendes  sleeth. 
Have  heer  my  trouthe,  as  thou  art  his  aspye, 
Telle  wher  he  is  or  thou  shalt  it  abye, 
By  God  and  by  the  holy  sacrement ! 
For  soothly  thou  art  oon  of  his  assent, 

Sk.,  C,  721-758 


295-332  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  373 

To  sleen  us  yonge  folk,  thou  false  theef!" 

"Now,  sirs,"  quod  he,  "if  that  yow  be  so  leef 
To  finde  Deeth,  turne  up  this  croked  wey, 
For  in  that  grove  I  lafte  him,  by  my  fey, 
Under  a  tree,  and  ther  he  wol  abyde. 
Nat  for  your  boost  he  wol  him  no-thing  hyde. 
See  ye  that  ook?  Right  ther  ye  shul  him  finde. 
God  save  yow,  that  boghte  agayn  mankinde, 
And  yow  amende!" — Thus  seyde  this  olde  man. 
And  everich  of  thise  ryotoures  ran 
Til  he  cam  to  that  tree,  and  ther  they  founde 
Of  florins  fyne  of  gold  y-coyned  rounde 
Wei  ny  an  eighte  busshels,  as  hem  thoughte. 
No  lenger  thanne  after  Deeth  they  soughte, 
But  ech  of  hem  so  glad  was  of  that  sighte, 
For  that  the  florins  been  so  faire  and  brighte, 
That  doun  they  sette  hem  by  this  precious  hord. 
The  worste  of  hem  he  spak  the  firste  word : — 

"Brethren,"  quod  he,  "tak  keep  what  I  seye; 
My  wit  is  greet,  though  that  I  bourde  and  pleye. 
This  tresour  hath  Fortune  un-to  us  yiven, 
In  mirthe  and  lolitee  our  lyf  to  liven, 
And  lightly  as  it  comth,  so  wol  we  spende. 
Ey!  Goddes  precious  dignitee!  who  wende 
To-day  that  we  sholde  han  so  fair  a  grace? 
But  mighte  this  gold  be  caried  fro  this  place 
Hoom  to  myn  hous,  or  elles  un-to  youres — 
For  wel  ye  woot  that  al  this  gold  is  oures — 
Than  were  we  in  heigh  felicitee. 
But  trewely,  by  day  it  may  nat  be: 
Men  wolde  seyn  that  we  were  theves  stronge, 
And  for  our  owene  tresour  doon  us  honge. 
This  tresor  moste  y-caried  be  by  nighte 
As  wysly  and  as  slyly  as  it  mighte. 
Wherfore  I  rede  that  cut  among  us  alle 
Be  drawe,  and  lat  see  wher  the  cut  wol  falle; 
And  he  that  hath  the  cut  with  herte  blythe 
Shal  renne  to  the  toun,  and  that  ful  swythe, 

Sk.,  C,  759-796 


374  CHAUCER 


333-370 


And  bringe  us  breed  and  wyn  f ul  prively. 

And  two  of  us  shal  kepen  subtilly 

This  tresor  wel;  and  if  he  wol  nat  tarie, 

Whan  it  is  night  we  wol  this  tresor  carie 

By  oon  assent,  wher-as  us  thinketh  best." 

That  oon  of  hem  the  cut  broughte  in  his  fest, 

And  bad  hem  drawe,  and  loke  wher  it  wol  falle; 

And  it  fil  on  the  yongeste  of  hem  alle; 

And  forth  toward  the  toun  he  wente  anon. 

And  al-so  sone  as  that  he  was  gon, 

That  oon  of  hem  spak  thus  un-to  that  other: 

"Thou  knowest  wel  thou  art  my  sworne  brother, 

Thy  profit  wol  I  telle  thee  anon. 

Thou  woost  wel  that  our  felawe  is  agon; 

And  heer  is  gold,  and  that  ful  greet  plentee, 

That  shal  departed  been  among  us  three. 

But  natheles,  if  I  can  shape  it  so 

That  it  departed  were  among  us  two, 

Had  I  nat  doon  a  freendes  torn  to  thee?" 

That  other  answerde,  "I  noot  how  that  may  be. 
He  woot  how  that  the  gold  is  with  us  tweye; 
What  shal  we  doon,  what  shal  we  to  him  seye?" 

•'Shal  it  be  conseil?"  seyde  the  firste  shrewe, 
"And  I  shal  tellen  thee  in  wordes  fewe 
What  we  shal  doon  and  bringe  it  wel  aboute." 

"I  graunte,"  quod  that  other,  "out  of  doute, 
That,  by  my  trouthe,  I  wol  thee  nat  biwreye." 

"Now,"  quod  the  firste,  "thou  woost  wel  we  be  tweye, 
And  two  of  us  shal  strenger  be  than  oon. 
Loke  whan  that  he  is  set,  and  right  anoon 
Arys  as  though  thou  woldest  with  him  pleye, 
And  I  shal  ryve  him  thurgh  the  sydes  tweye 
Whyl  that  thou  strogelest  with  him  as  in  game, 
And  with  thy  daggere  loke  thou  do  the  same. 
And  than  shal  al  this  gold  departed  be, 
My  dere  freend,  bitwixen  me  and  thee. 
Than  may  we  bothe  our  lustes  al  fulfille, 
And  pleye  at  dees  right  at  our  owene  wille." 

Sk.,  C.  797-834 


371-408  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  375 

And  thus  acorded  been  thise  shrewes  tweye 
To  sleen  the  thridde,  as  ye  han  herd  me  seye. 

This  yongest,  which  that  wente  un-to  the  toun, 
Ful  ofte  in  herte  he  rolleth  up  and  doun 
The  beautee  of  thise  florins  newe  and  brighte. 

"O  Lord!"  quod  he,  "if  so  were  that  I  mighte 
Have  al  this  tresor  to  my-self  allone, 
Ther  is  no  man  that  liveth  under  the  trone 
Of  God  that  sholde  live  so  merye  as  I!" 
And  atte  laste,  the  feend,  our  enemy, 
Putte  in  his  thought  that  he  sholde  poyson  beye, 
With  which  he  mighte  sleen  his  felawes  tweye; 
For- why  the  feend  fond  him  in  swich  lyvinge 
That  he  had  leve  him  to  sorwe  bringe, 
For  this  was  outrely  his  fulle  entente 
To  sleen  hem  bothe,  and  nevere  to  repente. 
And  forth  he  gooth,  no  lenger  wolde  he  tarie, 
Into  the  toun,  un-to  a  pothecarie, 
And  preyed  him  that  he  him  wolde  selle 
Som  poyson  that  he  mighte  his  rattes  quelle; 
And  eek  ther  was  a  polcat  in  his  hawe, 
That,  as  he  seyde,  his  capouns  had  y-slawe; 
And  fayn  he  wolde  wreke  him,  if  he  mighte, 
On  vermine  that  destroyed  him  by  nighte. 

The  pothecarie  answerde,  "And  thou  shalt  have 
A  thing  that,  al-so  God  my  soule  save, 
In  al  this  world  ther  nis  no  creature, 
That  etc  or  dronke  hath  of  this  confiture 
Noght  but  the  mountance  of  a  corn  of  whete, 
That  he  ne  shal  his  lyf  anon  forlete; 
Ye,  sterve  he  shal,  and  that  in  lasse  whyle 
Than  thou  wolt  goon  a-paas  nat  but  a  myle: 
This  poyson  is  so  strong  and  violent." 

This  cursed  man  hath  in  his  hond  y-hent 
This  poyson  in  a  box,  and  sith  he  ran 
In-to  the  nexte  strete  un-to  a  man, 
And  borwed  of  him  large  botels  three; 
And  in  the  two  his  poyson  poured  he; 

Sk.,  C,  835-872 


376  CHAUCER  409-445 

The  thridde  he  kepte  clene  for  his  drinke. 
For  al  the  night  he  shoop  him  for  to  swinke 
In  carying  of  the  gold  out  of  that  place. 
And  whan  this  ryotour,  with  sory  grace! 
Had  filled  with  wyn  his  grete  hotels  three, 
To  his  felawes  agayn  repaireth  he. 

What  nedeth  it  to  sermone  of  it  more? 
For  right  as  they  had  cast  his  deeth  bifore, 
Right  so  they  han  him  slayn,  and  that  anon. 
And  whan  that  this  was  doon,  thus  spak  that  oon, 

"Now  lat  us  sitte  and  drinke,  and  make  us  merie, 
And  afterward  we  wol  his  body  berie." 
And  with  that  word  it  happed  him,  par  cas, 
To  take  the  botel  ther  the  poyson  was, 
And  drank,  and  yaf  his  felawe  drinke  also, 
For  which  anon  they  storven  bothe  two. 

But  certes,  I  suppose  that  Avicen 
Wroot  nevere  in  no  canon,  ne  in  no  fen, 
Mo  wonder  signes  of  empoisoning 
Than  had  thise  wrecches  two  er  hir  ending. 
Thus  ended  been  thise  homicydes  two, 
And  eek  the  false  empoysoner  also. 

O  cursed  sinne,  ful  of  cursednesse! 
O  tray  tours  homicyde,  O  wikkednesse! 
O  glotonye,  luxurie,  and  hasardrye! 
Thou  blasphemour  of  Crist  with  vileinye 
And  othes  grete,  of  usage  and  of  pryde! 
Alias!  mankinde,  how  may  it  bityde 
That  to  thy  creatour  which  that  thee  wroghte, 
And  with  his  precious  herte-blood  thee  boghte, 
Thou  art  so  false  and  so  unkinde,  alias! 

Now,  goode  men,  God  foryeve  yow  your  trespas, 
And  ware  yow  fro  the  sinne  of  avaryce. 
Myn  holy  pardoun  may  yow  alle  waryce, 
So  that  ye  offre  nobles  or  sterlinges, 
Or  elles  silver  broches,  spones,  ringes. 
Boweth  your  heed  under  this  holy  bulle! 

Sk.,  C,  873-909 


446-481  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  377 

Cometh  up,  ye  wyves,  offreth  of  your  wolle! 

Your  name  I  entre  heer  in  my  rolle  anon; 

In- to  the  blisse  of  hevene  shul  ye  gon; 

I  yow  assoile,  by  myn  heigh  power, 

Yow  that  wol  offre,  as  clene  and  eek  as  cleer 

As  ye  were  born: — And,  lo,  sirs,  thus  I  preche. 

And  lesu  Crist,  that  is  our  soules  leche, 

So  graunte  yow  his  pardon  to  receyve; 

For  that  is  best:  I  wol  yow  nat  deceyve. 

But  sirs,  o  word  forgat  I  in  my  tale, 
I  have  relikes  and  pardon  in  my  male, 
As  faire  as  any  man  in  Engelond, 
Which  were  me  yeven  by  the  popes  hond. 
If  any  of  yow  wol,  of  devocioun. 
Offren,  and  han  myn  absolucioun, 
Cometh  forth  anon,  and  kneleth  heer  adoun, 
And  mekely  receyveth  my  pardoun: 
Or  elles,  taketh  pardon  as  ye  wende, 
Al  newe  and  f reshe,  at  every  tounes  ende, 
So  that  ye  offren  alwey  newe  and  newe 
Nobles  and  pens  which  that  be  gode  and  trewe. 
It  is  an  honour  to  everich  that  is  heer 
That  ye  mowe  have  a  suffisant  pardoneer 
Tassoille  yow  in  contree  as  ye  ryde 
For  aventures  which  that  may  bityde. 
Peraventure  ther  may  falle  oon  or  two 
Doun  of  his  hors,  and  breke  his  nekke  atwo. 
Look  which  a  seuretee  is  it  to  yow  alle 
That  I  am  in  your  felaweshipe  y-falle, 
That  may  assoille  yow,  bothe  more  and  lasse, 
Whan  that  the  soule  shal  fro  the  body  passe. 
I  rede  that  our  host  heer  shal  biginne, 
For  he  is  most  envoluped  in  sinne. 
Com  forth,  sir  host,  and  offre  first  anon, 
And  thou  shalt  kisse  the  reliks  everichon, 
Ye,  for  a  grote!  Unbokele  anon  thy  purs! 

Here  is  ended  the  Pardoners  Tale. 

Sk.,  C,  910-945 


378  CHAUCER  i-36 

The  Prologe  of  the  Wyves  Tale  of  Bathe 

Experience,  though  noon  auctoritee 

Were  in  this  world,  were  right  y-nough  to  me 

To  speke  of  wo  that  is  in  manage; 

For,  lordings,  sith  I  twelf  yeer  was  of  age, 

Thonked  be  God  that  is  eterne  on  lyve, 

Housbondes  at  chirche-dore  I  have  had  fyve. 

For  I  so  ofte  have  y- wedded  be; 

And  alle  were  worthy  men  in  hir  degree. 

Welcome  the  sixte,  whan  that  evere  he  shal. 

For  sothe,  I  wol  nat  kepe  me  chast  in  al; 

Whan  myn  housbonde  is  fro  the  world  y-gon, 

Som  Cristen  man  shal  wedde  me  anon. 

For  than  thapostle  seith  that  I  am  free 

To  wedde.  a  Goddes  half,  wher  it  lyketh  me. 

He  seith  that  to  be  wedded  is  no  sinne; 

Bet  is  to  be  wedded  than  to  brinne. 

What  rekketh  me  thogh  folk  seye  vileinye 

Of  shrewed  Lameth  and  his  bigamye? 

I  woot  wel  Abraham  was  an  holy  man, 

And  lacob  eek,  as  ferforth  as  I  can; 

And  ech  of  hem  had  wyves  mo  than  two, 

And  many  another  holy  man  also. 

Whan  saugh  ye  evere  in  any  maner  age 

That  hye  God  defended  mariage 

By  expres  word?  I  pray  you  tellen  me; 

Or  wher  comanded  he  virginitee? 

I  woot  as  wel  as  ye,  it  is  no  drede, 

Thapostel,  whan  he  speke th  of  maydenhede; 

He  seyde  that  precept  ther-of  had  he  noon. 

Men  may  conseille  a  womman  to  been  oon, 

But  conseilling  is  no  comandement; 

He  putte  it  in  our  owene  lugement. 

For  hadde  God  comanded  maydenhede, 

Than  had  he  dampned  wedding  with  the  dede; 

And  certes,  if  ther  were  no  seed  y-sowe, 

Virginitee,  wher-of  than  sholde  it  growe? 

Sk.,  D,  1-8;  45-72 


37-74  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  379 

Poul  dorste  nat  comanden  atte  leste 

A  thing  of  which  his  maister  yaf  noon  heste. 

The  darte  is  set  up  for  virginitee; 

Cacche  who  so  may,  who  renneth  best  lat  see. 

But  this  word  is  nat  take  of  every  wight, 
But  ther  as  God  list  give  it  of  his  might. 
I  woot  wel  that  thapostel  was  a  mayde; 
But  natheless,  thogh  that  he  wroot  and  sayde 
He  wolde  that  every  wight  were  swich  as  he, 
Al  nis  but  conseil  to  virginitee. 
And  for  to  been  a  wyf  he  yaf  me  leve 
Of  indulgence;  so  it  is  no  repreve 
To  wedde  me  if  that  my  make  dye, 
With-oute  excepcioun  of  bigamye. 

My  fourthe  housbonde  was  a  revelour, — 
This  is  to  seyn  he  had  a  paramour; 
And  I  was  yong  and  ful  of  ragerye, 
Stiborn  and  strong,  and  loly  as  a  pye. 
Wel  coude  I  daunce  to  an  harpe  smale, 
And  singe,  y-wis,  as  any  nightingale. 
But,  Lord  Crist!  whan  that  it  remembreth  me 
Up-on  my  youthe  and  on  my  lolitee 
It  tikleth  me  aboute  myn  herte  rote. 
Unto  this  day  it  dooth  myn  herte  bote 
That  I  have  had  my  world  as  in  my  tyme. 
But  age,  alias!  that  al  wol  envenyme, 
Hath  me  biraft  my  beautee  and  my  pith: 
Lat  go,  fare- wel,  the  devel  go  therwith! 
The  flour  is  goon,  ther  is  na-more  to  tellej 
The  bren,  as  I  best  can,  now  moste  I  selle; 
But  yet  to  be  right  merye  wol  I  fonde. 
Now  wol  I  tellen  of  my  fourthe  housbonde. 

I  seye  I  had  in  herte  greet  despyt 
That  he  of  any  other  had  delyt. 
But  he  was  quit,  by  God  and  by  Seint  loce! 
I  made  him  of  the  same  wode  a  croce; 
Nat  of  my  body  in  no  foul  manere, 
But  certeinly,  I  made  folk  swich  chere 

Sk.,  D,  73-86;  453-458;  469-486 


380  CHAUCER  75-112 

That  in  his  owene  grece  I  made  him  frye 

For  angre  and  for  verray  lalousye. 

By  God,  in  erthe  I  was  his  purgatorie, 

For  which  I  hope  his  soule  be  in  glorie. 

For  God  it  woot,  he  sat  ful  ofte  and  song 

Whan  that  his  shoo  ful  bitterly  him  wrong. 

Ther  was  no  wight,  save  God  and  he,  that  wiste, 

In  many  wyse,  how  sore  I  him  twiste. 

He  deyde  whan  I  cam  fro  Jerusalem, 

And  lyth  y-grave  under  the  rode-beem, 

Al  is  his  tombe  noght  so  curious 

As  was  the  sepulcre  of  him  Darius, 

Which  that  Appelles  wroghte  subtilly; 

It  nis  but  wast  to  burie  him  preciously. 

Lat  him  fare-wel,  God  yeve  his  soule  reste, 

He  is  now  in  his  grave  and  in  his  cheste. 

My  fifthe  housbonde,  God  his  soule  blesse! 
Which  that  I  took  for  love  and  no  richesse, 
He  som-tyme  was  a  clerk  of  Oxenford, 
And  had  left  scole,  and  went  at  hoom  to  bord 
With  my  gossib,  dwelling  in  oure  toun, 
God  have  hir  soule!  hir  name  was  Alisoun. 
She  knew  myn  herte  and  eek  my  privetee 
Bet  than  our  parisshe-preest,  so  moot  I  thee! 

And  so  bifel  that  ones  in  a  Lente 
(So  often  tymes  I  to  my  gossib  wente, 
For  evere  yet  I  lovede  to  be  gay 
And  for  to  walke,  in  March,  Averil,  and  May, 
Fro  hous  to  hous  to  here  sondry  talis) 
That  lankin-  clerk,  and  my  gossib  Dame  Alis, 
And  I  my-self,  in-to  the  feldes  wente. 
Myn  housbonde  was  at  London  al  that  Lente; 
I  had  the  bettre  leyser  for  to  pleye, 
And  for  to  see  and  eek  for  to  be  seye 
Of  lusty  folk;  what  wiste  I  wher  my  grace 
Was  shapen  for  to  be,  or  in  what  place? 
Therfore  I  made  my  visitaciouns 
To  vigilies  and  to  processiouns, 

Sk.,  D,  487-502;  525-532;  543-556 


113-iso  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  381 

To  preching  eek  and  to  this?  pilgrimages, 
To  pleyes  of  miracles  and  manages, 
And  wered  upon  my  gaye  scarlet  gytes. 
Thise  wormes,  ne  thise  motthes,  ne  thise  mytes, 
Upon  my  peril,  frete  hem  nevere  a  deel ; 
And  wostow  why?     For  they  were  used  weel. 

Now  wol  I  tellen  forth  what  happed  me. 
I  seye  that  in  the  feeldes  walked  we 
Til  trewely  we  had  swich  daliance, 
This  clerk  and  I,  that  of  my  purveyance 
I  spak  to  him,  and  seyde  him  how  that  he, 
If  I  were  widwe,  sholde  wedde  me. 
For  certeinly,  I  sey  for  no  bobance, 
Yet  was  I  nevere  with-outen  purveyance 
Of  mariage,  nof  othere  thinges  eek. 
I  holde  a  mouses  herte  nat  worth  a  leek 
That  hath  but  oon  hool  for  to  sterte  to, 
And  if  that  faille,  than  is  al  y-do. 

I  bar  him  on  honde  he  had  enchanted  me; 
My  dame  taughte  me  that  soutiltee. 
And  eek  I  seyde  I  mette  of  him  al  night: 
He  wolde  han  slayn  me  as  I  lay  upright, 
And  al  my  bed  was  ful  of  verray  blood, 
But  yet  I  hope  that  he  shal  do  me  good; 
For  blood  bitokeneth  gold,  as  me  was  taught. 
And  al  was  fals,  I  dremed  it  right  naught, 
But  as  I  folwed  ay  my  dames  lore, 
As  wel  of  this  as  of  other  thinges  more. 

But  now,  sir,  lat  me  see,  what  shal  I  seyn? 
A!  ha!  by  God,  I  have  my  tale  ageyn. 

Whan  that  my  fourthe  housbonde  was  on  bere, 
I  weep  algate,  and  made  a  sory  chere, 
As  wyves  moten,  for  it  is  usage, 
And  with  my  coverchief  covered  my  visage; 
But  for  that  I  was  purveyed  of  a  make, 
I  weep  but  smal,  and  that  I  undertake. 

To  chirche  was  myn  housbonde  born  a-morwe 
With  neighebores,  that  for  him  maden  sorwe; 

Sk.,  D,  557-594 


382  CHAUCER  151-188 

And  lankin  oure  clerk  was  oon  of  tho. 

As  helpe  me  God,  whan  that  I  saugh  him  go 

After  the  here,  me  though te  he  had  a  paire 

Of  legges  and  of  feet  so  clene  and  faire 

That  al  myn  herte  I  yaf  un-to  his  hold. 

He  was,  I  trowe,  a  twenty  winter  old, 

And  I  was  fourty,  if  I  shal  seye  sooth; 

But  yet  I  had  alwey  a  coltes  tooth. 

Gat-tothed  I  was,  and  that  bicam  me  weel; 

I  had  the  prente  of  Seynte  Venus  seel. 

As  helpe  me  God,  I  was  a  lusty  oon, 

And  faire  and  riche,  and  yong  and  wel  bigoon. 

What  sholde  I  seye,  but  at  the  monthes  ende 
This  loly  clerk  lankin,  that  was  so  hende, 
Hath  wedded  me  with  greet  solempnitee, 
And  to  him  yaf  I  al  the  lond  and  fee 
That  evere  was  me  yeven  ther-bifore; 
But  afterward  repented  me  ful  sore. 
He  nolde  suffre  nothing  of  my  list. 
By  God,  he  smoot  me  ones  on  the  list, 
For  that  I  rente  out  of  his  book  a  leef, 
That  of  the  strook  myn  ere  wex  al  deef . 
Stiborn  I  was  as  is  a  leonesse, 
And  of  my  tonge  a  verray  langleresse, 
And  walke  I  wolde,  as  I  had  doon  biforn, 
From  hous  to  hous,  al-though  he  had  it  sworn. 
For  which  he  often  tymes  wolde  preche, 
And  me  of  olde  Romayn  gestes  teche 
How  he  Simplicius  Gallus  lefte  his  wyf, 
And  hir  forsook  for  terme  of  al  his  lyf , 
Noght  but  for  open-heeded  he  hir  say 
Loking  out  at  his  dore  upon  a  day. 

He  had  a  book  that  gladly  night  and  day 
For  his  desport  he  wolde  rede  alway. 
He  cleped  it  Valerie  and  Theofraste, 
At  whiche  book  he  lough  alwey  ful  faste. 
And  eek  ther  was  som-tyme  a  clerk  at  Rome, 
A  cardinal  that  highte  Seint  lerome, 

Sk.,  D,  594HS06;  627-646;  669-674 


189-226  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  383 

That  made  a  book  agayn  lovinian, 

In  whiche  book  eek  ther  was  Tertulan, 

Crisippus,  Trotula,  and  Helowys, 

That  was  abbesse  nat  fer  fro  Parys; 

And  eek  the  Parables  of  Salomon, 

Ovydes  Art,  and  bokes  many  on, 

And  alle  thise  were  bounden  in  o  volume. 

And  every  night  and  day  was  his  custume, 

Whan  he  had  leyser  and  vacacioun 

From  other  worldly  occupacioun, 

To  reden  on  this  book  of  wikked  wyves. 

He  knew  of  hem  mo  legendes  and  lyves 

Than  been  of  gode  wyves  in  the  Bible. 

For  trusteth  wel,  it  is  an  impossible 

That  any  clerk  wol  speke  good  of  wyves, 

But-if  it  be  of  holy  seintes  lyves, 

Ne  of  noon  other  womman  nevere  the  mo. 

Who  peyntede  the  leoun,  tel  me  who? 

By  God,  if  wommen  hadde  writen  stories, 

As  clerkes  han  with-in  hir  oratories, 

They  wolde  han  writen  of  men  more  wikkednesse 

Than  all  the  mark  of  Adam  may  redresse. 

Of  Lyma  tolde  he  me,  and  of  Lucye, 
They  bothe  made  hir  housbondes  for  to  dye: 
That  oon  for  love,  that  other  was  for  hate 
Lyma  hir  housbonde  on  an  even  late 
Empoysoned  hath,  for  that  she  was  his  fo. 
Lucya,  likerous,  loved  hir  housbonde  so 
That,  for  he  sholde  alwey  up-on  hir  thinke, 
She  yaf  him  swich  a  maner  love-drinke 
That  he  was  deed  er  it  were  by  the  morwe; 
And  thus  algates  housbondes  han  sorwe. 

Than  tolde  he  me  how  oon  Latumius 
Compleyned  to  his  f  elawe  Arrius 
That  in  his  gardin  growed  swich  a  tree 
On  which,  he  seyde,  how  that  his  wyves  three 
Hanged  hem-self  for  herte  despitous. 

"O  leve  brother,"  quod  this  Arrius, 

Sk.,  D,  675-696;  747-762 


384  CHAUCER  227-254 

"  Yif  me  a  plante  of  thilke  blissed  tree, 
And  in  my  gardin  planted  shal  it  be!" 

Of  latter  date,  of  wy  ves  hath  he  red, 
That  somme  han  slayn  hir  housbondes  in  hir  bed; 
Somme  han  hem  yeve  poysoun  in  hir  drinke. 
He  spak  more  harm  than  herte  may  bithinke. 
And  ther-with-al  he  knew  of  mo  proverbes 
Than  in  this  world  ther  growen  gras  or  herbes. 

uBet  is,"  quod  he,  "thyn  habitacioun 
Be  with  a  leoun  or  a  foul  dragoun 
Than  with  a  womman  using  for  to  chyde. 
Bet  is,"  quod  he,  "hye  in  the  roof  abyde 
Than  with  an  angry  wyf  doun  in  the  hous: 
They  been  so  wikked  and  contrarious ; 
They  haten  that  hir  housbondes  loveth  ay." 
He  seyde,  "  A  womman  cast  hir  shame  away 
Whan  she  cast  of  hir  smok;"  and  forther-mo, 
"A  fair  womman,  but  she  be  chaast  also, 
Is  lyk  a  gold  ring  in  a  sowes  nose." 
Who  wolde  wenen,  or  who  wolde  suppose 
The  wo  that  in  myn  herte  was,  and  pyne? 

And  whan  I  saugh  he  wolde  nevere  fyne 
To  reden  on  this  cursed  book  al  night, 
Al  sodeynly  three  leves  have  I  plight 
Out  of  the  book,  right  as  he  radde,  and  eke 
I  with  my  fist  so  took  him  on  the  cheke 
That  in  our  fyr  he  fil  bakward  adoun. 
And  he  up-stirte  as  dooth  a  wood  leoun, 
And  with  his  fist  he  smoot  me  on  the  heed 
That  in  the  floor  I  lay  as  I  were  deed. 
And  when  he  saugh  how  stifle  that  I  lay, 
He  was  agast,  and  wolde  han  fled  his  way 
Til  atte  laste  out  of  my  swogh  I  breyde: 
"O!  hastow  slayn  me,  false  theef?"  I  seyde, 
"And  for  my  land  thus  hastow  mordred  me? 
Er  I  be  deed  yet  wol  I  kisse  thee." 

And  neer  he  cam,  and  kneled  faire  adoun, 
And  seyde,  "Dere  suster  Alisoun, 

Sk.,  D,  763-766;  771-804 


265-288.  i-s       THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  385 

As  help?  me  God,  I  shal  thee  nevere  smyte; 

That  I  have  doon,  it  is  thy-self  to  wyte. 

Foryef  it  me,  and  that  I  thee  biseke" — 

And  yet  eft-sones  I  hitte  him  on  the  cheke, 

And  seyde,  "Theef,  thus  muchel  am  I  wreke; 

Now  wol  I  dye,  I  may  no  lenger  speke." 

But  atte  laste,  with  muchel  care  and  wo, 

We  fille  acorded  by  us  selven  two. 

He  yaf  me  al  the  brydel  in  myn  hond 

To  han  the  governance  of  hous  and  lond, 

And  of  his  tonge  and  of  his  hond  also, 

And  made  him  brenne  his  book  anon  right  tho. 

And  whan  that  I  had  geten  un-to  me, 

By  maistrie,  al  the  soveraynetee, 

And  that  he  seyde,  "  Myn  owene  trewe  wyf , 

Do  as  thee  lust  the  terme  of  al  thy  lyf, 

Keep  thyn  honour,  and  keep  eek  myn  estaat " — 

After  that  day  we  hadden  nevere  debaat. 

God  helpe  me  so,  I  was  to  him  as  kinde    * 

As  any  wyf  from  Denmark  un-to  Inde, 

And  also  trewe,  and  so  was  he  to  me. 

I  prey  to  God  that  sit  in  magestee, 

So  blesse  his  soule  for  his  mercy  dere! 

Now  wol  I  seye  my  tale,  if  ye  wol  here. 

(Here  follow  the  words  between  the  Somnour  and  the  Frere,  and 
the  Tale  of  the  Wyf  of  Bathe} 

Here  folweth  the  Prologe  of  the  Clerkes  Tale  of  Oxenford. 

"Sir  clerk  of  Oxenford,"  our  hoste  sayde, 
"  Ye  ryde  as  coy  and  stille  as  dooth  a  mayde, 
Were  newe  spoused,  sitting  at  the  bord. 
This  day  ne  herde  I  of  your  tonge  a  word. 
I  trowe  ye  studie  aboute  som  sophyme, 
But  Salomon  seith,  'Every  thing  hath  tyme.' 
For  Goddes  sake,  as  beth  of  bettre  chere, 
It  is  no  tyme  for  to  studien  here. 

Sk.,  D,  805-828;  E,  1-8 


386  CHAUCER 


9-46 


Telle  us  som  mery  tale,  by  your  fey; 
For  what  man  that  is  entred  in  a  pley, 
He  nedes  moot  unto  the  pley  assente. 
But  precheth  nat,  as  freres  doon  in  Lente, 
To  make  us  for  our  olde  sinnes  wepe, 
Ne  that  thy  tale  make  us  nat  to  slepe. 
Telle  us  som  mery  thing  of  aventures. 
Your  termes,  your  colours,  and  your  figures, 
Kepe  hem  in  stoor  til  so  be  ye  endyte 
Heigh  style,  as  whan  that  men  to  kinges  wryte. 
Speketh  so  pleyn  at  this  tyme,  I  yow  preye, 
That  we  may  understonde  what  ye  seye." 

This  worthy  clerk  benignely  answerde, 
"Hoste,"  quod  he,  "I  am  under  your  yerde; 
Ye  han  of  us  as  now  the  governaunce, 
And  therfore  wol  I  do  yow  obeisaunce 
As  fer  as  reson  axeth,  hardily. 
I  wol  yow  telle  a  tale  which  that  I 
Lerned  at  Padowe  of  a  worthy  clerk, 
As  preved  by  his  wordes  and  his  werk. 
He  is  now  deed  and  nayled  in  his  cheste, 
I  prey  to  God  so  yeve  his  soule  reste ! 

"Fraunceys  Petrark,  the  laureat  poete, 
Highte  this  clerk,  whos  rethoryke  sweete 
Enlumined  al  Itaille  of  poetrye, 
As  Linian  dide  of  philosophye 
Or  lawe  or  other  art  particuler; 
But  Deeth,  that  wol  nat  suffre  us  dwellen  heer 
But  as  it  were  a  twinkling  of  an  ye, 
Hem  bothe  han  slayn,  and  alle  shul  we  dye. 

"But  forth  to  tellen  of  this  worthy  man, 
That  taughte  me  this  tale  as  I  bigan, 
I  seye  that  first  with  heigh  style  he  endyteth, 
Er  he  the  body  of  his  tale  wryteth, 
A  proheme,  in  the  which  discryveth  he 
Pemond,  and  of  Saluces  the  contree, 
And  speketh  of  Apennyn,  the  hilles  hye, 
That  been  the  boundes  of  West  Lumbardye, 

Sk.,  E,  9-46 


47-56.  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  387 

Cl.  T.,  1-21 

And  of  Mount  Vesulus  in  special, 
Wher  as  the  Poo  out  of  a  welle  smal 
Taketh  his  firste  springing  and  his  sours, 
That  estward  ay  encresseth  in  his  cours 
To  Emelward,  to  Ferrare,  and  Venyse: 
The  which  a  long  thing  were  to  devyse. 
But  trewely,  as  to  my  lugement, 
Me  thinketh  it  a  thing  impertinent, 
Save  that  he  wol  conveyen  his  matere; 
But  this  his  tale,  which  that  ye  may  here." 


THE  CLERKES  TALE 

Here  biginneth  the  Tale  of  the  Clerk  of  Oxenford. 

Ther  is  at  the  west  syde  of  Itaille, 

Doun  at  the  rote  of  Vesulus  the  colde, 

A  lusty  playn,  habundant  of  vitaille, 

Wher  many  a  tour  and  toun  thou  mayst  biholde 

That  founded  were  in  tyme  of  fadres  olde, 

And  many  another  delitable  sighte, 

And  Saluces  this  noble  con  tree  highte. 

A  markis  whylom  lord  was  of  that  lond, 
As  were  his  worthy  eldres  him  bifore; 
And  obeisant  and  redy  to  his  hond 
Were  alle  his  liges,  bothe  lasse  and  more. 
Thus  in  delyt  he  liveth,  and  hath  don  yore, 
Biloved  and  drad,  thurgh  favour  of  Fortune, 
Bothe  of  his  lordes  and  of  his  commune. 

Therwith  he  was,  to  speke  as  of  linage, 
The  gentilleste  y-born  of  Lumbardye, 
A  fair  persone,  and  strong,  and  yong  of  age, 
And  ful  of  honour  and  of  curteisye; 
Discreet  y-nogh  his  contree  for  to  gye, 
Save  in  somme  thinges  that  he  was  to  blame, 
And  Walter  was  this  yonge  lordes  name. 

Sk.,  E,  47-77 


388  CHAUCER  22-56 

I  blame  him  thus,  that  he  considered  noght 
In  tyme  coming  what  mighte  him  bityde, 
But  on  his  lust  present  was  al  his  thoght, 
As  for  to  hauke  and  hunte  on  every  syde; 
Wei  ny  alle  othere  cures  leet  he  slyde, 
And  eek  he  nolde — and  that  was  worst  of  alle — 
Wedde  no  wyf ,  for  noght  that  may  bifalle. 

Only  that  point  his  peple  bar  so  sore 
That  flokmele  on  a  day  they  to  him  wente, 
And  oon  of  hem,  that  wysest  was  of  lore, 
Or  elles  that  the  lord  best  wolde  assente 
That  he  sholde  telle  him  what  his  peple  mente, 
Or  elles  coude  he  shewe  wel  swich  matere, 
He  to  the  markis  seyde  as  ye  shul  here. 

"O  noble  markis,  your  humanitee 
Assureth  us  and  yeveth  us  hardinesse, 
As  ofte  as  tyme  is  of  necessitee, 
That  we  to  yow  mowe  telle  our  hevinesse; 
Accepteth,  lord,  now  for  your  gentilesse, 
That  we  with  pitous  herte  un-to  yow  pleyne, 
And  lete  your  eres  nat  my  voys  disdeyne. 

"For  certes,  lord,  so  wel  us  lyketh  yow 

And  al  your  werk,  and  evere  han  doon,  that  we 

Ne  coude  nat  us  self  devysen  how 

We  mighte  liven  in  more  felicitee, 

Save  o  thing,  lord,  if  it  your  wille  be, 

That  for  to  been  a  wedded  man  yow  leste, 

Than  were  your  peple  in  sovereyn  hertes  reste. 

"Boweth  your  nekke  under  that  blisful  yok 
Of  soveraynetee,  noght  of  servyse, 
Which  that  men  clepeth  spousaille  or  wedlok; 
And  thenketh,  lord,  among  your  thoghtes  wyse, 
How  that  our  dayes  passe  in  sondry  wyse. 
For  though  we  slepe  or  wake,  or  rome  or  ryde, 
Ay  fleeth  the  tyme,  it  nil  no  man  abyde. 

Sk.,  E,  78-98;  106-119 


S7-9i  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  389 

"Accepteth  than  of  us  the  trewe  entente, 
That  nevere  yet  refuseden  your  heste, 
And  we  wol,  lord,  if  that  ye  wol  assente, 
Chese  yow  a  wyf  in  short  tyme,  atte  leste, 
Born  of  the  gentilleste  and  of  the  meste 
Of  al  this  lond,  so  that  it  oghte  seme 
Honour  to  God  and  yow,  as  we  can  deme. 

"Deliver  us  out  of  al  this  bisy  drede, 

And  tak  a  wyf,  for  hye  Goddes  sake; 

For  if  it  so  bifelle,  as  God  forbede, 

That  thurgh  your  deeth  your  linage  sholde  slake, 

And  that  a  straunge  successour  sholde  take 

Your  heritage,  O!  wo  were  us  alyve! 

Wherfore  we  pray  you  hastily  to  wyve." 

Hir  meke  preyere  and  hir  pitous  chere 

Made  the  markis  herte  han  pitee. 

"Ye  wol,"  quod  he,  "myn  owene  peple  dere, 

To  that  I  nevere  erst  thoghte  streyne  me. 

I  me  reioysed  of  my  libertee 

That  selde  tyme  is  founde  in  mariage: 

Ther  I  was  free,  I  moot  been  in  servage. 

"But  nathelees  I  see  your  trewe  entente, 

And  truste  upon  your  wit,  and  have  don  ay; 

Wherfore  of  my  free  wille  I  wol  assente 

To  wedde  me  as  sone  as  evere  I  may. 

But  ther-as  ye  han  prof  red  me  to-day 

To  chese  me  a  wyf,  I  yow  relesse 

That  choys,  and  prey  yow  of  that  profre  cesse. 

"And  forthermore,  this  shul  ye  swere,  that  ye 
Agayn  my  choys  shul  neither  grucche  ne  stryve; 
For  sith  I  shal  forgoon  my  libertee 
At  your  requeste,  as  evere  moot  I  thryve, 
Ther-as  myn  herte  is  set,  ther  wol  I  wyve. 
And  but  ye  wole  assente  in  swich  manere, 
I  prey  yow,  speketh  na-more  of  this  matere." 

Sk.,  E,  127-154;  169-175 


390  CHAUCER  92-122 

With  hertly  wille  they  sworen  and  assenten 
To  al  this  thing,  ther  seyde  no  wight  nay; 
Biseking  him  of  grace,  er  that  they  wenten, 
That  he  wolde  graunten  hem  a  certein  day 
Of  his  spousaille,  as  sone  as  evere  he  may. 
For  yet  alwey  the  peple  som-what  dredde 
Lest  that  this  markis  no  wyf  wolde  wedde. 

He  graunted  hem  a  day  swich  as  hem  leste, 
On  which  he  wolde  be  wedded  sikerly, 
And  seyde  he  did  al  this  at  hir  requeste; 
And  they,  with  humble  entente,  buxomly, 
Kneling  up-on  hir  knees  ful  reverently 
Him  thanken  alle,  and  thus  they  han  an  ende 
Of  hir  entente,  and  hoom  agayn  they  wende. 

Explicit  prima  pars.  Incipit  secunda  pars 

Noght  fer  fro  thilke  paleys  honurable 
Ther-as  this  markis  shoop  his  mariage, 
Ther  stood  a  throp  of  site  deli  table 
In  which  that  povre  folk  of  that  village 
Hadden  hir  bestes  and  hir  herbergage, 
And  of  hir  labour  took  hir  sustenance 
After  that  the  erthe  yaf  hem  habundance. 

Amonges  thise  povre  folk  ther  dwelte  a  man 
Which  that  was  holden  povrest  of  hem  alle; 
But  hye  God  som  tyme  senden  can 
His  grace  in- to  a  litel  oxes  stalle: 
lanicula  men  of  that  throp  him  calle. 
A  doghter  had  he,  fair  y-nogh  to  sighte, 
And  Grisildis  this  yonge  mayden  highte. 

But  for  to  speke  of  vertuous  beautee, 
Than  was  she  oon  the  faireste  under  sonne; 
For  povreliche  y-fostred  up  was  she, 

Sk.,  E,  176-189;  197-213 


123-154  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  391 

No  likerous  lust  was  thurgh  hir  herte  y-ronne. 
Wei  ofter  of  the  welle  than  of  the  tonne 
She  drank,  and  for  she  wolde  vertu  plese, 
She  knew  wel  labour  but  non  ydel  ese. 

But  thogh  this  mayde  tendre  were  of  age, 

Yet  in  the  brest  of  hir  virginitee 

Ther  was  enclosed  rype  and  sad  corage; 

And  in  greet  reverence  and  charitee 

Hir  olde  povre  fader  fostred  she. 

A  fewe  sheep  spinning  on  feeld  she  kepte, 

She  wolde  noght  been  ydel  til  she  slepte. 

Up-on  Grisilde,  this  povre  creature, 
Ful  ofte  sythe  this  markis  sette  his  ye 
As  he  on  hunting  rood  paraventure; 
And  whan  it  fil  that  he  mighte  hir  espye, 
He  noght  with  wantoun  loking  of  folye 
His  yen  caste  on  hir,  but  in  sad  wyse 
Up-on  hir  chere  he  wolde  him  ofte  avyse, 

Commending  in  his  herte  hir  wommanhede, 
And  eek  hir  vertu,  passing  any  wight 
Of  so  yong  age,  as  wel  in  chere  as  dede. 
For  thogh  the  peple  have  no  greet  insight 
In  vertu,  he  considered  ful  right 
Hir  bountee,  and  disposed  that  he  wolde 
Wedde  hir  only,  if  evere  he  wedde  sholde. 

The  day  of  wedding  cam,  but  no  wight  can 
Telle  what  womman  that  it  sholde  be; 
For  which  merveille  wondred  many  a  man, 
And  seyden,  whan  they  were  in  privetee, 
"  Wol  nat  our  lord  yet  leve  his  vanitee? 
Wol  he  nat  wedde?  Alias,  alias,  the  whyle! 
Why  wol  he  thus  him-self  and  us  bigyle?" 

Sk.,  E,  214-224;  232-252 


392  CHAUCER 

But  natheles  this  markis  hath  don  make 
Of  gemmes  set  in  gold  and  in  asure 
Broches  and  ringes  for  Grisildis  sake, 
And  of  hir  clothing  took  he  the  mesure 
By  a  mayde  lyk  to  hir  stature, 
And  eek  of  othere  ornamentes  alle 
That  un-to  swich  a  wedding  sholde  falle. 

The  tyme  of  undern  of  the  same  day 
Approcheth,  that  this  wedding  sholde  be; 
And  al  the  paleys  put  was  in  array, 
Bothe  halle  and  chambres,  ech  in  his  degree: 
Houses  of  office  stuffed  with  plentee 
Ther  maystow  seen  of  deyntevous  vitaille 
That  may  be  founde  as  fer  as  last  Itaille. 

This  royal  markis,  richely  arrayed, 
Lordes  and  ladyes  in  his  companye. 
The  which  unto  the  feste  were  y-prayed, 
And  of  his  retenue  the  bachelrye, 
With  many  a  soun  of  sondry  melodye, 
Un-to  the  village,  of  the  which  I  tolde, 
In  this  array  the  righte  wey  han  holde. 

Grisilde  of  this,  God  woot,  ful  innocent 

That  for  hir  shapen  was  al  this  array, 

To  fecchen  water  at  a  welle  is  went, 

And  cometh  hoom  as  sone  as  evere  she  may. 

For  wel  she  had  herd  seyd  that  thilke  day 

The  markis  sholde  wedde,  and,  if  she  mighte, 

She  wolde  fayn  han  seyn  som  of  that  sighte. 

She  thoghte,  "I  wol  with  othere  maydens  stonde, 
That  been  my  felawes,  in  my  dore  and  see 
The  markisesse;  and  therfore  wol  I  fonde 
To  doon  at  hoom,  as  sone  as  it  may  be, 
The  labour  which  that  longeth  un-to  me, 
And  than  I  may  at  leyser  hir  biholde, 
If  she  this  wey  un-to  the  castel  holde." 

Sk.,  E,  253-287 


190-224  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  393 

And  as  she  wolde  over  hir  threshfold  goon, 
The  markis  cam  and  gan  hir  for  to  calle; 
And  she  sette  doun  hir  water-pot  anoon 
Besyde  the  threshfold,  in  an  oxes  stalle, 
And  doun  up-on  hir  knees  she  gan  to  falle, 
And  with  sad  contenance  kneleth  stille 
Til  she  had  herd  what  was  the  lordes  wille. 

This  thoghtful  markis  spak  un-to  this  mayde 
Ful  sobrely,  and  seyde  in  this  manere, 
"Wher  is  your  fader,  O  Grisildis?"  he  sayde, 
And  she  with  reverence,  in  humble  chere, 
Answerde,  "Lord,  he  is  al  redy  here." 
And  in  she  gooth  with-outen  lenger  lette, 
And  to  the  markis  she  hir  fader  fette. 

He  by  the  hond  than  took  this  olde  man, 
And  seyde  thus,  whan  he  him  had  asyde: 
"lanicula.  I  neither  may  ne  can 
Lenger  the  plesance  of  myn  herte  hyde. 
If  that  thou  vouche-sauf,  what-so  bityde, 
Thy  doghter  wol  I  take,  er  that  I  wende, 
As  for  my  wyf ,  un-to  hir  lyves  ende. 

"Thou  lovest  me,  I  woot  it  wel,  certeyn, 
And  art  my  feithful  lige  man  y-bore; 
And  al  that  lyketh  me,  I  dar  wel  seyn 
It  lyketh  thee,  and  specially  therfore 
Telle  me  that  poynt  that  I  have  seyd  bifore, 
If  that  thou  wolt  un-to  that  purpos  drawe, 
To  take  me  as  for  thy  sone-in-lawe." 

This  sodeyn  cas  this  man  astoned  so 

That  reed  he  wex,  abayst,  and  al  quakinge 

He  stood;  unnethes  seyde  he  wordes  mo, 

But  only  thus:  "Lord,"  quod  he,  "my  willinge 

Is  as  ye  wole,  ne  ayeins  your  lykinge 

I  wol  no- thing.  Ye  be  my  lord  so  dere; 

Right  as  yow  lust  governeth  this  matere." 

Sk..  E,  288-322 


394  CHAUCER  225-259 

"Yet  wol  I,"  quod  this  markis  softely, 
"That  in  thy  chambre  I  and  thou  and  she 
Have  a  collacion,  and  wostow  why? 
For  I  wol  axe  if  it  hir  wille  be 
To  be  my  wyf,  and  reule  hir  after  me; 
And  al  this  shal  be  doon  in  thy  presence, 
I  wol  noght  speke  out  of  thyn  audience." 

And  in  the  chambre  whyl  they  were  aboute 
Hir  tretis,  which  as  ye  shal  after  here, 
The  peple  cam  un-to  the  hous  with-oute, 
And  wondred  hem  in  how  honest  manere 
And  tentifly  she  kepte  hir  fader  dere. 
But  outerly  Grisildis  wondre  mighte, 
For  nevere  erst  ne  saugh  she  swich  a  sighte. 

No  wonder  is  thogh  that  she  were  astoned 
To  seen  so  greet  a  gest  come  in  that  place; 
She  nevere  was  to  swiche  gestes  woned, 
For  which  she  loked  with  ful  pale  a  face. 
But  shortly  forth  this  tale  for  to  chace, 
Thise  arn  the  wordes  that  the  markis  sayde 
To  this  benigne  verray  feithful  mayde. 

"Grisilde,"  he  seyde,  "ye  shul  wel  understonde 

It  lyketh  to  your  fader  and  to  me 

That  I  yow  wedde,  and  eek  it  may  so  stonde, 

As  I  suppose,  ye  wol  that  it  so  be. 

But  thise  demandes  axe  I  first,"  quod  he, 

"That,  sith  it  shal  be  doon  in  hastif  wyse, 

Wol  ye  assente,  or  elles  yow  avyse? 

"I  seye  this,  be  ye  redy  with  good  herte 
To  al  my  lust,  and  that  I  frely  may, 
As  me  best  thinketh,  do  yow  laughe  or  smerte, 
And  nevere  ye  to  grucche  it,  night  ne  day. 
And  eek  whan  I  sey  'Ye,'  ne  sey nat  'Nay/ 
Neither  by  word  ne  frowning  contenance; 
Swer  this,  and  heer  I  swer  our  alliance." 

Sk.,  E,  323-357 


260-294  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  395 

Wondring  upon  this  word,  quaking  for  drede, 

She  seyde,  "Lord,  undigne  and  unworthy 

Am  I  to  thilke  honour  that  ye  me  bede; 

But  as  ye  wol  your-self ,  right  so  wol  I. 

And  heer  I  swere  that  nevere  willingly 

In  werk  ne  thoght  I  nil  yow  disobeye, 

For  to  be  deed,  though  me  were  looth  to  deye." 

"This  is  y-nogh,  Grisilde  myn!"  quod  he. 
And  forth  he  goth  with  a  ful  sobre  chere 
Out  at  the  dore,  and  after  that  cam  she, 
And  to  the  peple  he  seyde  in  this  manere: 
"This  is  my  wyf,"  quod  he,  "that  stondeth  here. 
Honoureth  hir,  and  loveth  hir,  I  preye, 
Who-so  me  loveth.  Ther  is  na-more  to  seye." 

And  for  that  no-thing  of  hir  olde  gere 
She  sholde  bringe  in-to  his  hous,  he  bad 
That  wommen  sholde  dispoilen  hir  right  there; 
Of  which  thise  ladyes  were  nat  right  glad 
To  handle  hir  clothes  wher-in  she  was  clad. 
But  natheles  this  mayde  bright  of  hewe 
Fro  foot  to  heed  they  clothed  han  al  newe. 

Hir  heres  han  they  kembd,  that  lay  untressed 
Ful  rudely,  and  with  hir  fingres  smale 
A  corone  on  hir  heed  they  han  y-dressed, 
And  sette  hir  ful  of  nowches  grete  and  smale: 
Of  hir  array  sholde  I  make  a  tale? 
Unnethe  the  peple  hir  knew  for  hir  fairnesse, 
Whan  she  translated  was  in  swich  richesse. 

This  markis  hath  hir  spoused  with  a  ring 
Broght  for  the  same  cause,  and  than  hir  sette 
Up-on  an  hors,  snow- why t  and  wel  ambling; 
And  to  his  paleys  er  he  lenger  lette, 
With  loyful  peple  that  hir  ladde  and  mette, 
Conveyed  hir,  and  thus  the  day  they  spende 
In  revel,  til  the  sonne  gan  descende. 

Sk.,  E,  358-392 


396  CHAUCER  295-325 

And  shortly  forth  this  tale  for  to  chace, 
I  seye  that  to  this  newe  markisesse 
God  hath  swich  favour  sent  hir  of  his  grace 
That  it  ne  semed  nat  by  lyklinesse 
That  she  was  born  and  fed  in  rudenesse, 
As  in  a  cote  or  in  an  oxe-stalle, 
But  norished  in  an  emperoures  halle. 

To  every  wight  she  woxen  is  so  dere 
And  worshipful  that  folk  ther  she  was  bore, 
And  from  hir  birthe  knewe  hir  yeer  by  yere, 
Unnethe  trowed  they,  but  dorste  han  swore 
That  to  lanicle  of  which  I  spak  bifore, 
She  doghter  nas,  for,  as  by  coniecture, 
Hem  thoughte  she  was  another  creature. 

Nat  longe  tyme  after  that  this  Grisild 
Was  wedded,  she  a  doughter  hath  y-bore, 
Al  had  hir  lever  have  born  a  knave  child. 
Glad  was  this  markis  and  the  folk  therfore; 
For  though  a  mayde  child  come  al  bifore, 
She  may  unto  a  knave  child  atteyne 
By  lyklihede,  sin  she  nis  nat  bareyne. 

Explicit  secunda  pars.  Incipit  tercia  pars 

Ther  fil,  as  it  bifalleth  tymes  mo, 

Whan  that  this  child  had  souked  but  a  thro  we, 

This  markis  in  his  herte  longeth  so 

To  tempte  his  wyf ,  hir  sadnesse  for  to  knowe, 

That  he  ne  mighte  out  of  his  herte  throwe 

This  merveillous  desyr,  his  wyf  tassaye, 

Nedeless,  God  woot,  he  thoughte  hir  for  taffraye. 

He  had  assayed  hir  y-nogh  bifore, 
And  fond  hir  evere  good:  what  neded  it 
Hir  for  to  tempte  and  alwey  more  and  more, 

Sk.,  E,  393-406;  442-458 


326-357  THE  CAUNTERBURY   TALES  397 

Though  som  men  preise  it  for  a  subtil  wit? 
But  as  for  me,  I  seye  that  yvel  it  sit 
Tassaye  a  wyf  whan  that  it  is  no  nede, 
And  putten  her  in  anguish  and  in  drede. 

For  which  this  markis  wroghte  in  this  manere: 
He  cam  alone  a-night,  ther  as  she  lay, 
With  sterne  face  and  with  ful  trouble  chere, 
And  seyde  thus:  "Grisild,"  quod  he,  "that  day 
That  I  yow  took  out  of  your  povre  array, 
And  putte  yow  in  estaat  of  heigh  noblesse, 
Ye  have  nat  that  forgeten,  as  I  gesse. 

"Ye  woot  your-self  wel  how  that  ye  cam  here 

In-to  this  hous,  it  is  nat  longe  ago, 

And  though  to  me  that  ye  be  lief  and  dere, 

Un-to  my  gentils  ye  be  no- thing  so; 

They  seyn  to  hem  it  is  greet  shame  and  wo 

For  to  be  subgets  and  ben  in  servage 

To  thee  that  born  art  of  a  smal  village. 

"  And  namely,  sith  thy  doghter  was  y-bore, 

Thise  wordes  han  they  spoken  doutelees; 

But  I  desyre,  as  I  have  doon  bifore, 

To  live  my  lyf  with  hem  in  reste  and  pees. 

I  may  nat  in  this  caas  be  recchelees. 

I  moot  don  with  thy  doghter  for  the  beste, 

Nat  as  I  wolde,  but  as  my  peple  leste. 

"And  yet,  God  wot,  this  is  ful  looth  to  me; 
But  nathelees  with-oute  your  witing 
I  wol  nat  doon,  but  this  wol  I,"  quod  he, 
"That  ye  to  me  assente  as  in  this  thing. 
Shewe  now  your  pacience  in  your  werking 
That  ye  me  highte  and  swore  in  your  village 
That  day  that  maked  was  our  mariage." 

Sk.,  E,  459-469;  477-497 


398  CHAUCER  353-392 

Whan  she  had  herd  al  this,  she  noght  ameved 
Neither  in  word,  or  chere,  or  countenaunce; 
For  as  it  semed,  she  was  nat  agreved. 
She  seyde,  "Lord,  al  lyth  in  your  plesaunce, 
My  child  and  I  with  hertly  obeisaunce 
Ben  youres  al,  and  ye  mowe  save  or  spille 
Your  owene  thing.  Werketh  after  your  wille. 

"Ther  may  no- thing,  God  so  my  soule  save, 
Lyken  to  yow  that  may  displese  me; 
Ne  I  desyre  no- thing  for  to  have, 
Ne  drede  for  to  lese,  save  only  ye. 
This  wille  is  in  my  herte  and  ay  shal  be. 
No  lengthe  of  tyme  or  deeth  may  this  deface, 
Ne  chaunge  my  corage  to  another  place." 

Glad  was  this  markis  of  hir  answeringe, 
But  yet  he  feyned  as  he  were  nat  so; 
Al  drery  was  his  chere  and  his  lokinge 
Whan  that  he  sholde  out  of  the  chambre  go. 
Sone  after  this,  a  furlong  wey  or  two, 
He  prively  hath  told  al  his  entente 
Un-to  a  man,  and  to  his  wyf  him  sente. 

A  maner  sergeant  was  this  privee  man, 

The  which  that  feithful  ofte  he  founden  hadde 

In  thinges  grete,  and  eek  swich  folk  wel  can 

Don  execucioun  on  thinges  badde. 

The  lord  knew  wel  that  he  him  loved  and  dradde; 

And  whan  this  sergeant  wiste  his  lordes  wille, 

In-to  the  chambre  he  stalked  him  ful  stille. 

"Madame,"  he  seyde,  "ye  mote  foryeve  it  me, 
Thogh  I  do  thing  to  which  I  am  constreyned. 
Ye  ben  so  wys  that  ful  wel  knowe  ye 
That  lordes  hestes  mowe  nat  been  y-feyned; 
They  mowe  wel  been  biwailled  or  compleyned, 
But  men  mot  nede  un-to  her  lust  obeye, 
And  so  wol  I;  ther  is  na-more.  to  seye. 

Sk.,  E,  498-532 


393-427         TPIE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  399 

''This  child  I  am  comanded  for  to  take"- 

And  spak  na-more,  but  oute  the  child  he  hente 

Despitously,  and  gan  a  chere  make 

As  though  he  wolde  han  slayn  it  er  he  wente. 

Grisildis  mot  al  suffren  and  consente; 

And  as  a  lamb  she  sitteth  meke  and  stille, 

And  leet  this  cruel  sergeant  doon  his  wille. 

But  atte  laste  speken  she  bigan, 

And  mekely  she  to  the  sergeant  preyde, 

So  as  he  was  a  worthy  gen  til  man, 

That  she  moste  kisse  hir  child  er  that  it  deyde; 

And  in  her  barm  this  litel  child  she  leyde 

With  ful  sad  face,  and  gan  the  child  to  kisse 

And  lulled  it,  and  after  gan  it  blisse. 

And  thus  she  seyde  in  hir  benigne  voys: 
"Far  weel,  my  child!  I  shal  thee  nevere  see; 
But  sith  I  the  have  marked  with  the  croys, 
Of  thilke  Fader  blessed  mote  thou  be 
That  for  us  deyde  up-on  a  croys  of  tree. 
Thy  soule,  litel  child,  I  him  bitake, 
For  this  night  shaltow  dyen  for  my  sake." 

I  trowe  that  to  a  norice  in  this  cas 

It  had  ben  hard  this  rewthe  for  to  se; 

Wei  mighte  a  mooder  than  han  cryed  "Alias!" 

But  nathelees  so  sad  stedfast  was  she 

That  she  endured  all  adversitee, 

And  to  the  sergeant  mekely  she  sayde, 

"Have  heer  agayn  your  litel  yonge  mayde. 

"  Goth  now,"  quod  she,  "  and  dooth  my  lordes  heste, 
But  o  thing  wol  I  preye  yow  of  your  grace, 
That,  but  my  lord  forbad  yow,  atte  leste 
Burieth  this  litel  body  in  som  place 
That  bestes  ne  no  briddes  it  to-race." 
But  he  no  word  wol  to  that  purpos  seye, 
But  took  the  child  and  wente  upon  his  weye. 

Sk.,  E.  533-539;  547-574 


400  CHAUCER  428-162 

This  sergeant  cam  un-to  his  lord  ageyn, 

And  of  Grisildis  wordes  and  hir  chere 

He  tolde  him  point  for  point,  in  short  and  playn, 

And  him  presenteth  with  his  doghter  dere. 

Somwhat  this  lord  hath  rewthe  in  his  manere; 

But  nathelees  his  purpos  heeld  he  stille, 

As  lordes  doon  whan  they  wol  han  hir  wille. 

And  bad  his  sergeant  that  he  prively 

Sholde  this  child  ful  softe  winde  and  wrappe 

With  alle  circumstances  tendrely, 

And  carie  it  in  a  cofre  or  in  a  lappe; 

But,  up-on  peyne  his  heed  of  for  to  swappe, 

That  no  man  sholde  knowe  of  his  entente, 

Ne  whenne  he  cam,  ne  whider  that  he  wente; 

But  at  Boloigne  to  his  suster  dere, 

That  thilke  tyme  of  Panik  was  countesse, 

He  sholde  it  take,  and  shewe  hir  this  matere, 

Biseking  hir  to  don  hir  bisinesse 

This  child  to  fostre  in  alle  gentilesse, 

And  whos  child  that  it  was  he  bad  hir  hyde 

From  every  wight,  for  oght  that  may  bityde. 

The  sergeant  gooth,  and  hath  fulfild  this  thing; 

But  to  this  markis  now  retourne  we. 

For  now  goth  he  ful  faste  imagining 

If  by  his  wyves  chere  he  mighte  see, 

Or  by  hir  word  aperceyve  that  she 

Were  chaunged;  but  he  nevere  hir  coude  finde 

But  evere  in  oon  y-lyke  sad  and  kinde. 

As  glad,  as  humble,  as  bisy  in  servyse, 
And  eek  in  love  as  she  was  wont  to  be, 
Was  she  to  him  in  every  maner  wyse; 
Ne  of  hir  doghter  noght  a  word  spak  she. 
Non  accident  for  noon  adversitee 
Was  seyn  in  hir,  ne  nevere  hir  doghter  name 
Ne  nempned  she,  in  ernest  nor  in  game. 
Explicit  tercia  pars.  Sequitur  pars  quarta 

Sk.,  E,  575-609 


463-497  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  401 

In  this  estaat  ther  passed  been  foure  yeer 

Er  she  with  childe  was;  but  as  God  wolde, 

A  knave  child  she  bar  by  this  Walter, 

Ful  gracious  and  fair  for  to  biholde. 

And  whan  that  folk  it  to  his  fader  tolde, 

Nat  only  he,  but  al  his  contree,  merie 

Was  for  this  child,  and  God  they  thanke  and  herie. 

Whan  it  was  two  yeer  old,  and  fro  the  brest 
Departed  of  his  norice,  on  a  day 
This  markis  caughte  yet  another  lest 
To  tempte  his  wyf  yet  ofter  if  he  may. 
O  nedeles  was  she  tempted  in  assay! 
But  wedded  men  ne  knowe  no  mesure, 
Whan  that  they  finde  a  pacient  creature. 

"Wyf,"  quod  this  markis,  "ye  han  herd  er  this, 
My  peple  sikly  berth  our  mariage; 
And  namely  sith  my  sone  y-boren  is, 
Now  is  it  worse  than  evere  in  al  our  age. 
The  murmur  sleeth  myn  herte  and  my  corage; 
For  to  myne  eres  comth  the  voys  so  smerte 
That  it  wel  ny  destroyed  hath  myn  herte. 

"Now  sey  they  thus:    'Whan  Walter  is  agoon, 
Then  shal  the  blood  of  lanicle  succede 
And  been  our  lord,  for  other  have  we  noon ; ' 
Swich  wordes  seith  my  peple,  out  of  drede. 
Wel  oughte  I  of  swich  murmur  taken  hede; 
For  certeinly  I  drede  swich  sentence, 
Though  they  nat  pleyn  speke  in  myn  audience. 

"I  wolde  live  in  pees,  if  that  I  mighte; 
Wherfore  I  am  disposed  outerly, 
As  I  his  suster  servede  by  nighte, 
Right  so  thenke  I  to  serve  him  prively. 
This  warne  I  yow,  that  ye  nat  sodeynly 
Out  of  your-self  for  no  wo  sholde  outraye: 
Beth  pacient,  and  ther-of  I  yow  preye." 

Sk.,  E,  610-644 


402  CHAUCER  498-532 

"I  have,"  quod  she,  "seyd  thus,  and  evere  shal, 

I  wol  no  thing,  ne  nil  no  thing,  certayn, 

But  as  yow  list.    Noght  greveth  me  at  al, 

Thogh  that  my  doghter  and  my  sone  be  slayn, — 

At  your  comandement,  this  is  to  sayn. 

I  have  noght  had  no  part  of  children  tweyne 

But  first  siknesse  and  after  wo  and  peyne. 

"Ye  been  our  lord,  doth  with  your  owene  thing 

Right  as  yow  list;  axeth  no  reed  at  me. 

For  as  I  lefte  at  hoom  al  my  clothing, 

Whan  I  first  cam  to  yow,  right  so,"  quod  she, 

"Left  I  my  wille  and  al  my  libertee, 

And  took  your  clothing:  wherfore  I  yow  preye, 

Doth  your  plesaunce,  I  wol  your  lust  obeye. 

"And  certes,  if  I  hadde  prescience 

Your  wille  to  knowe  er  ye  your  lust  me  tolde, 

I  wolde  it  doon  with-outen  necligence; 

But  now  I  woot  your  lust  and  what  ye  wolde, 

Al  your  plesaunce  ferme  and  stable  I  holde. 

For  wiste  I  that  my  deeth  wolde  do  yow  ese, 

Right  gladly  wolde  I  dyen,  yow  to  plese. 

"Deth  may  noght  make  no  comparisoun 
Un-to  your  love:"  and  whan  this  markis  sey 
The  Constance  of  his  wyf ,  he  caste  adoun 
His  yen  two,  and  wondreth  that  she  may 
In  pacience  suffre  al  this  array. 
And  forth  he  gooth  with  drery  contenaunce, 
But  to  his  herte  it  was  ful  greet  plesaunce. 

This  ugly  sergeant  in  the  same  wyse 
That  he  hir  doghter  caughte,  right  so  he, 
Or  worse  if  men  worse  can  devyse, 
Hath  hent  hir  sone,  that  ful  was  of  beautee. 
And  evere  in  oon  so  pacient  was  she 
That  she  no  chere  made  of  hevinesse, 
But  kiste  hir  sone,  and  after  gan  it  blesse; 

Sk.,  E,  645-679 


533-567  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  403 

Save  this:  she  preyed  him  that,  if  he  mighte, 
Her  litel  sone  he  wolde  in  erthe  grave, 
His  tendre  limes,  delicat  to  sighte, 
Fro  foules  and  fro  bestes  for  to  save. 
But  she  non  answere  of  him  mighte  have. 
He  wente  his  wey,  as  him  no- thing  ne  roghte; 
But  to  Boloigne  he  tendrely  it  broghte. 

This  markis  wondreth  evere  lenger  the  more 

Up-on  hir  pacience,  and  if  that  he 

Ne  hadde  soothly  knowen  ther-bifore 

That  parfitly  hir  children  lovede  she, 

He  wolde  have  wend  that  of  som  subtiltee, 

And  of  malice  or  for  cruel  corage, 

That  she  had  suffred  this  with  sad  visage. 

But  wel  he  knew  that  next  him-self,  certayn, 
She  loved  hir  children  best  in  every  wyse. 
But  now  of  wommen  wolde  I  axen  fayn 
If  thise  assayes  mighte  nat  suffyse? 
What  coude  a  sturdy  housbonde  more  devyse 
To  preve  hir  wyfhod  and  hir  stedfastensse, 
And  he  continuing  evere  in  sturdinesse? 

The  sclaundre  of  Walter  of te  and  wyde  spradde, 

That  of  a  cruel  herte  he  wikkedly, 

For  he  a  povre  womman  wedded  hadde, 

Hath  mordred  bothe  his  children  prively. 

Swich  murmur  was  among  hem  comunly. 

No  wonder  is,  for  to  the  peples  ere 

Ther  cam  no  word  but  that  they  mordred  were. 

For  which,  wher-as  his  peple  ther-bifore 

Had  loved  him  wel,  the  sclaundre  of  his  diffame 

Made  hem  that  they  him  hatede  therfore; 

To  been  a  mordrer  is  an  hateful  name. 

But  natheles,  for  ernest  ne  for  game 

He  of  his  cruel  purpos  nolde  stente; 

To  tempte  his  wyf  was  set  al  his  entente. 

t*.,E,  680-700;  722-735 


404  CHAUCER  S68-<>02 

Whan  that  his  doghter  twelf  yeer  was  of  age, 
He  to  the  court  of  Rome  in  subtil  wyse, 
Enformed  of  his  wille,  sente  his  message, 
Comaunding  hem  swiche  bulles  to  devyse 
As  to  his  cruel  purpos  may  suffyse, 
How  that  the  pope,  as  for  his  peples  reste, 
Bad  him  to  wedde  another,  if  him  leste. 

I  seye,  he  bad  they  sholde  countrefete 

The  popes  bulles,  making  mencioun 

That  he  hath  leve  his  firste  wyf  to  lete 

As  by  the  popes  dispensacioun, 

To  stinte  rancour  and  dissencioun 

Bitwixe  his  peple  and  him:  thus  seyde  the  bulle, 

The  which  they  han  publiced  atte  fulle. 

The  rude  peple,  as  it  no  wonder  is, 
Wenden  ful  wrel  that  it  had  been  right  so; 
But  whan  thise  tydinges  cam  to  Grisildis, 
I  deme  that  hir  herte  was  ful  wo. 
But  she,  y-lyke  sad  for  everemo, 
Disposed  was,  this  humble  creature, 
Thadversitee  of  fortune  al  tendure, 

Abyding  evere  his  lust  and  his  plesaunce, 
To  whom  that  she  was  yeven,  herte  and  al, 
As  to  hir  verray  worldly  suffisaunce. 
But  shortly  if  this  storie  I  tellen  shal, 
This  markis  writen  hath  in  special 
A  lettre  in  which  he  sheweth  his  entente, 
And  secretly  he  to  Boloigne  it  sente. 

To  the  erl  of  Panik,  which  that  hadde  tho 

Wedded  his  suster,  preyde  he  specially 

To  bringen  hoom  agayn  his  children  two 

In  honurable  estaat  al  openly. 

But  o  thing  he  him  preyede  outerly, 

That  he  to  no  wight,  though  men  wolde  enquere, 

Sholde  nat  telle  whos  children  that  they  were, 

Sk.,  E,  736-770 


603-635  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  405 

But  seye  the  may  den  sholde  y- wedded  be 
Un-to  the  markis  of  Saluce  anon. 
And  as  this  erl  was  preyed,  so  did  he; 
For  at  day  set  he  on  his  wey  is  goon 
Toward  Saluce,  and  lordes  many  oon, 
In  riche  array,  this  mayden  for  to  gyde, 
Hir  yonge  brother  ryding  hir  bisyde. 

Arrayed  was  toward  hir  mariage 

This  fresshe  mayde,  ful  of  gemmes  clere; 

Hir  brother,  which  that  sevene  yeer  was  of  age, 

Arrayed  eek  ful  freshe  in  his  manere. 

And  thus  in  greet  noblesse  and  with  glad  chere, 

Toward  Saluces  shaping  hir  lourney, 

Fro  day  to  day  they  ryden  in  hir  wey. 

Explicit  quarta  pars.    Sequitur  quinta  pars. 

Among  al  this,  after  his  wikke  usage, 

This  markis  yet  his  wyf  to  tempte  more 

To  the  uttereste  preve  of  hir  corage, 

Fully  to  han  experience  and  lore 

If  that  she  were  as  stedfast  as  bifore, 

He  on  a  day  in  open  audience 

Ful  boistously  hath  seyd  hir  this  sentence: 

"Certes,  Grisilde,  I  had  y-nough  plesaunce 
To  han  yow  to  my  wyf  for  your  goodnesse, 
As  for  your  trouthe  and  for  your  obeisaunce, 
Nought  for  your  linage  ne  for  your  richesse; 
But  now  knowe  I  in  verray  soothfastnesse 
That  in  gret  lordshipe,  if  I  wel  avyse, 
Ther  is  gret  servitute  in  sondry  wyse. 

"I  may  nat  don  as  every  plowman  may; 
My  peple  me  constreyneth  for  to  take 
Another  wyf,  and  cryen  day  by  day; 
And  eek  the  pope,  rancour  for  to  slake, 
Consenteth  it,  that  dar  I  undertake. 

Sk.,  E,  771-803 


406  CHAUCER  63&-66S 

And  trewelich?  thus  muche  I  wol  yo\v  seye, 
My  newe  wyf  is  coming  by  the  weye. 

"Be  strong  of  herte,  and  voyde  anon  hir  place, 
And  thilke  dowere  that  ye  broghten  me 
Tak  it  agayn,  I  graunte  it  of  my  grace; 
Retourneth  to  your  fadres  hous,"  quod  he. 
"No  man  may  alwey  han  prosperitee; 
With  evene  herte  I  rede  yow  tendure 
The  strook  of  fortune  or  of  aventure." 

And  she  answerde  agayn  in  patience, 

"My  lord,"  quod  she,  "I  woot,  and  wiste  alway 

How  that  bitwixen  your  magnificence 

And  my  poverte  no  wight  can  ne  may 

Maken  comparison;  it  is  no  nay. 

I  ne  heeld  me  nevere  digne  in  no  manere 

To  be  your  wyf,  no,  ne  your  chamberere. 

"And  of  your  newe  wyf,  God  of  his  grace 
So  graunte  yow  wele  and  prosperitee; 
For  I  wol  gladly  yelden  hir  my  place, 
In  which  that  I  was  blisful  wont  to  be. 
For  sith  it  lyketh  yow,  my  lord,"  quod  she, 
"That  whylom  weren  al  myn  hertes  reste, 
That  I  shal  goon,  I  wol  gon  whan  yow  leste. 

"  But  ther-as  ye  me  profre  swich  dowaire 
As  I  first  broghte,  it  is  wel  in  my  minde 
It  were  my  wrecched  clothes,  no-thing  faire, 
The  which  to  me  were  hard  now  for  to  finde. 
O  gode  God!  how  gentil  and  how  kinde 
Ye  semed  by  your  speche  and  your  visage 
The  day  that  maked  was  our  manage ! 

"  My  lord,  ye  woot  that  in  my  fadres  place 
Ye  did  me  strepe  out  of  my  povre  wede, 
And  richely  me  cladden,  of  your  grace. 

Sk.,  E,  804-819;  841-854;  862  864 


669-703  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  407 

To  yow  broghte  I  noght  elles,  out  of  drede, 
But  feyth  and  nakednesse  and  maydenhede. 
And  heer  agayn  my  clothing  I  restore, 
And  eek  my  wedding-ring  for  everemore. 

"The  remenant  of  your  lewels  redy  be 
In- with  your  chambre,  dar  I  saufly  sayn; 
Naked  out  of  my  fadres  hous,"  quod  she, 
"I  cam,  and  naked  moot  I  turne  agayn. 
Al  your  plesaunce  wol  I  folwen  fayn; 
But  yet  I  hope  it  be  nat  your  entente 
That  I  smoklees  out  of  your  paleys  wente." 

"The  smok,"  quod  he,  "that  thou  hast  on  thy  bak, 
Lat  it  be  stille,  and  ber  it  forth  with  thee." 
But  wel  unnethes  thilke  word  he  spak, 
But  wente  his  wey  for  re  w  the  and  for  pi  tee. 
Biforn  the  folk  hir-selven  strepeth  she, 
And  in  hir  smok,  with  heed  and  foot  al  bare, 
Toward  hir  fader  hous  forth  is  she  fare. 

The  folk  hir  folwe  weping  in  hir  weye, 
And  fortune  ay  they  cursen  as  they  goon; 
But  she  fro  weping  kepte  hir  yen  dreye, 
Ne  in  this  tyme  word  ne  spak  she  noon. 
Hir  fader,  that  this  tydinge  herde  annoon, 
Curseth  the  day  and  tyme  that  nature 
Shoop  him  to  been  a  lyves  creature. 

For  out  of  doute  this  olde  povre  man 
Was  evere  in  suspect  of  hir  mariage; 
For  evere  he  denied  sith  that  it  bigan 
That  whan  the  lord  fulfild  had  his  corage 
Him  wolde  thinke  it  were  a  disparage 
To  his  estaat  so  lowe  for  talighte, 
And  voyden  hir  as  sone  as  evere  he  mighte. 

Agayns  his  doghter  hastilich  goth  he, 
For  he  by  noyse  of  folk  knew  hir  cominge, 
And  with  hir  olde  cote,  as  it  mighte  be, 

Sk.,E,  865-875;  890-913 


408  CHAUCER  704-735 

He  covered  hir,  ful  sorwefully  wepinge; 
But  on  hir  body  mighte  he  it  nat  bringe. 
For  rude  was  the  cloth,  and  more  of  age 
By  dayes  fele  than  at  hir  manage. 

Thus  with  hir  fader,  for  a  certeyn  space, 
Dwelleth  this  flour  of  wyfly  pacience, 
That  neither  by  hir  wordes  ne  hir  face 
Biforn  the  folk,  ne  eek  in  hir  absence, 
Ne  shewed  she  that  hir  was  doon  offence; 
Ne  of  hir  heigh  estaat  no  remembraunce 
Ne  hadde  she,  as  by  hir  countenaunce. 

Men  speke  of  lob  and  most  for  his  humblesse, 
As  clerkes,  whan  hem  list,  can  wel  endyte, 
Namely  of  men;  but  as  in  soothfastnesse, 
Thogh  clerkes  preyse  wommen  but  a  lyte, 
Ther  can  no  man  in  humblesse  him  acquyte 
As  womman  can,  ne  can  ben  half  so  trewe 
As  wommen  been,  but  it  be  falle  of-newe. 

Explicit  quinta  pars.     Sequitur  pars  sexta. 

Fro  Boloigne  is  this  erl  of  Panik  come, 

Of  which  the  fame  up-sprang  to  more  and  lesse, 

And  in  the  peples  eres  alle  and  some 

Was  couth  eek  that  a  newe  markisesse 

He  with  him  broghte,  in  swich  pompe  and  richesse 

That  nevere  was  ther  seyn  with  mannes  ye 

So  noble  array  in  al  West  Lumbardye. 

The  markis,  which  that  shoop  and  knew  al  this, 
Er  that  this  erl  was  come  sente  his  message 
For  thilke  sely  povre  Grisildis; 
And  she  with  humble  herte  and  glad  visage, 
Nat  with  no  swollen  thoght  in  hir  corage, 
Cam  at  his  heste,  and  on  hir  knees  hir  sette, 
And  reverently  and  wysly  she  him  grette. 

Sk.,  E,  914-924;  932-952 


736-770  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  409 

"Grisild,"  quod  he,  "my  wille  is  outerly, 
This  mayden,  that  shal  wedded  been  to  me, 
Receyved  be  to-morwe  as  royally 
As  it  possible  is  in  myn  hous  to  be. 
And  eek  that  every  wight  in  his  degree 
Have  his  estaat  in  sitting  and  servyse 
And  heigh  plesaunce,  as  I  can  best  devyse. 

"I  have  no  wommen  suffisaunt  certayn 
The  chambres  for  tarraye  in  ordinaunce 
After  iny  lust,  and  therfore  wolde  I  fayn 
That  thyn  were  al  swich  maner  governaunce; 
Thou  knowest  eek  of  old  al  my  plesaunce. 
Though  thyn  array  be  badde  and  yvel  biseye, 
Do  thou  thy  devoir  at  the  leeste  weye." 

"Nat  only,  lord,  that  I  am  glad,"  quod  she, 
"To  doon  your  lust,  but  I  desyre  also 
Yow  for  to  serve  and  plese  in  my  degree 
With-outen  feynting,  and  shal  everemo. 
Ne  nevere,  for  no  wele  ne  no  wo, 
Ne  shal  the  gost  with-in  myn  herte  stente 
To  love  yow  best  with  al  my  trewe  entente." 

And  with  that  word  she  gan  the  hous  to  dighte, 
And  tables  for  to  sette  and  beddes  make; 
And  peyned  hir  to  doon  al  that  she  mighte, 
Preying  the  chambereres,  for  Goddes  sake, 
To  hasten  hem,  and  faste  swepe  and  shake. 
And  she,  the  moste  servisable  of  alle, 
Hath  every  chambre  arrayed  and  his  halle. 

Abouten  undern  gan  this  erl  alighte, 

That  with  him  broghte  thise  noble  children  tweye, 

For  which  the  peple  ran  to  seen  the  sighte 

Of  hir  array  so  richely  biseye; 

And  than  at  erst  amonges  hem  they  seye 

That  Walter  was  no  fool,  thogh  that  him  leste 

To  chaunge  his  wyf,  for  it  was  for  the  beste. 

Sk.,  E,  953-987 


410  CHAUCER  771-805 

For  she  is  fairer,  as  they  demen  alle, 

Than  is  Grisild,  and  more  tendre  of  age, 

And  fairer  fruit  bitwene  hem  sholde  falle, 

And  more  plesant,  for  hir  heigh  linage. 

Hir  brother  eek  so  fair  was  of  visage 

That  hem  to  seen  the  peple  hath  caught  plesaunce, 

Commending  now  the  markis  gouernaunce. 

UO  stormy  peple!  unsad  and  evere  untrewe! 

Ay  undiscreet  and  chaunging  as  a  vane, 

Delyting  evere  in  rumbel  that  is  newe, 

For  lyk  the  mone  ay  wexe  ye  and  wane; 

Ay  ful  of  clapping,  dere  y-nogh  a  lane; 

Your  doom  is  fals,  your  Constance  yvel  preveth, 

A  ful  greet  fool  is  he  that  on  yow  leveth!" — 

Thus  seyden  sadde  folk  in  that  citee, 
Whan  that  the  peple  gazed  up  and  doun, 
For  they  were  glad,  right  for  the  noveltee, 
To  han  a  newe  lady  of  hir  toun. 
Na-more  of  this  make  I  now  mencioun; 
But  to  Grisilde  agayn  wol  I  me  dresse, 
And  telle  hir  Constance  and  hir  bisinesse. 

Ful  bisy  was  Grisilde  in  every  thing 
That  to  the  feste  was  apertinent; 
Right  noght  was  she  abayst  of  hir  clothing, 
Though  it  were  rude  and  somdel  eek  to-rent. 
But  with  glad  chere  to  the  yate  is  went 
With  other  folk  to  grete  the  markisesse, 
And  after  that  doth  forth  hir  bisinesse. 

In  al  this  mene  whyle  she  ne  stente 
This  mayde  and  eek  hir  brother  to  commende 
With  al  hir  herte  in  ful  benigne  entente, 
So  wel  that  no  man  coude  hir  prys  amende. 
But  atte  laste,  whan  thise  lordes  wende 
To  sitten  doun  to  mete,  he  gan  to  calle 
Grisilde  as  she  was  bisy  in  his  halle. 

Sk.,  E,  988-1015;  1023-1029 


806-840  THE  CAUNTERBURY  TALES  411 

"Grisilde,"  quod  he,  as  it  were  in  his  pley, 
"How  lyketh  thee  my  wyf  and  hir  beautee?" 
"Right  wel,"  quod  she,  "my  lord.  For  in  good  fey, 
A  fairer  say  I  nevere  noon  than  she. 
I  prey  to  God  yeve  hir  prosperitee; 
And  so  hope  I  that  he  wol  to  yow  sende 
Plesance  y-nogh  un-to  your  lyves  ende. 

"O  thing  biseke  I  yow  and  warne  also, 
That  ye  ne  prikke  with  no  tormentinge 
This  tendre  mayden,  as  ye  han  don  mo; 
For  she  is  fostred  in  hir  norishinge 
More  tendrely,  and  to  my  supposinge 
She  coude  nat  adversitee  endure 
As  coude  a  povre  fostred  creature." 

And  whan  this  Walter  say  hir  pacience, 
Hir  glade  chere  and  no  malice  at  al, 
And  he  so  ofte  had  doon  to  hir  offence, 
And  she  ay  sad  and  constant  as  a  wal, 
Continuing  evere  hir  innocence  overal, 
This  sturdy  markis  gan  his  herte  dresse 
To  rewen  up-on  hir  wyfly  stedfastnesse. 

"This  is  y-nogh,  Grisilde  myn,"  quod  he, 
"Be  now  na-more  agast  ne  yvel  apayed. 
I  have  thy  feith  and  thy  benignitee, 
As  wel  as  evere  womman  was,  assayed, 
In  greet  estaat,  and  povreliche  arrayed. 
Now  knowe  I,  dere  wyf,  thy  stedfastnesse," — 
And  hir  in  armes  took  and  gan  hir  kesse. 

And  she  for  wonder  took  of  it  no  keep; 
She  herde  nat  what  thing  he  to  hir  seyde; 
She  ferde  as  she  had  stert  out  of  a  sleep, 
Til  she  out  of  hir  masednesse  abreyde. 
"Grisilde,"  quod  he,  "by  God  that  for  us  deyde, 
Thou  art  my  wyf,  ne  noon  other  I  have, 
Ne  nevere  had,  as  God  my  soule  save! 

Sk.,  E,  1030-1064 


412  CHAUCER  841-875 

"This  is  thy  doghter  which  thou  hast  supposed 
To  be  my  wyf ;  that  other  feithfully 
Shal  be  myn  heir,  as  I  have  ay  purposed: 
Thou  bare  him  in  thy  body  trewely. 
At  Boloigne  have  I  kept  hem  prively; 
Tak  hem  agayn,  for  now  maystow  nat  seye 
That  thou  hast  lorn  non  of  thy  children  tweye. 

"And  folk  that  otherweyes  han  seyd  of  me, 
I  warne  hem  wel  that  I  have  doon  this  dede 
For  no  malice  ne  for  no  crueltee, 
But  for  tassaye  in  thee  thy  wommanhede, 
And  nat  to  sleen  thy  children,  God  forbede! 
But  for  to  kepe  hem  prively  and  stille 
Til  I  thy  purpos  knewe  and  al  thy  wille." 

Whan  she  this  herde,  aswowne  doun  she  falleth 
For  pitous  loye,  and  after  hir  swowninge 
She  bothe  hir  yonge  children  un-to  hir  calleth, 
And  in  hir  armes,  pitously  wepinge, 
Embraceth  hem,  and  tendrely  kissinge 
Ful  lyk  a  mooder,  with  hir  salte  teres 
She  batheth  bothe  hir  visage  and  hir  heres. 

O,  which  a  pitous  thing  it  was  to  see 

Hir  swowning,  and  hir  humble  voys  to  here ! 

"  Grauntmercy,  lord,  that  thanke  I  yow,"  quod  she, 

"That  ye  han  saved  me  my  children  dere! 

Now  rekke  I  nevere  to  ben  deed  right  here; 

Sith  I  stonde  in  your  love  and  in  your  grace, 

No  fors  of  deeth,  ne  whan  my  spirit  pace! 

"O  tendre,  O  dere,  O  yonge  children  myne, 

Your  woful  mooder  wende  stedfastly 

That  cruel  houndes  or  som  foul  vermyne 

Had  eten  yow;  but  God  of  his  mercy, 

And  your  benigne  fader  tendrely 

Hath  doon  yow  kept;"  and  in  that  same  stounde 

Al  sodeynly  she  swapte  adoun  to  grounde. 

Sk.,  E,  1065-1099 


8-6-910  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  413 

And  in  her  swough  so  sadly  holdeth  she 
Hir  children  two,  whan  she  gan  hem  tembrace, 
That  with  greet  sleighte  and  greet  difficult ee 
The  children  from  hir  arm  they  gonne  arace. 
O  many  a  tere  on  many  a  pitous  face 
Doun  ran  of  hem  that  stoden  hir  bisyde; 
Unnethe  abouten  hir  mighte  they  abyde. 

Walter  hir  gladeth,  and  hir  sorwe  slaketh; 
She  ryseth  up  abaysed  from  hir  traunce, 
And  every  wight  hir  loye  and  feste  maketh 
Til  she  hath  caught  agayn  hir  contenaunce. 
Walter  hir  dooth  so  feithfully  plesaunce 
That  it  was  deyntee  for  to  seen  the  chere 
Bitwixe  hem  two,  now  they  ben  met  y-fere. 

Thise  ladyes,  whan  that  they  hir  tyme  say, 
Han  taken  hir  and  in- to  chambre  goon, 
And  strepen  hir  out  of  hir  rude  array, 
And  in  a  cloth  of  gold  that  brighte  shoon, 
With  a  coroune  of  many  a  riche  stoon 
Up-on  hir  heed,  they  in-to  halle  hir  broghte, 
And  ther  she  was  honoured  as  hir  oghte. 

Thus  hath  this  pitous  day  a  blisful  ende, 
For  every  man  and  womman  dooth  his  might 
This  day  in  murthe  and  revel  to  dispende 
Til  on  the  welkne  shoon  the  sterres  light. 
For  more  solempne  in  every  mannes  sight 
This  feste  was,  and  gretter  of  costage, 
Than  was  the  revel  of  hir  mariage. 

Ful  many  a  yeer  in  heigh  prosperitee 
Liven  thise  two  in  concord  and  in  reste, 
And  richely  his  doghter  maried  he 
Un-to  a  lord,  oon  of  the  worthieste 
Of  al  Itaille;  and  than  in  pees  and  reste 
His  wyves  fader  in  his  court  he  kepeth 
Til  that  the  soule  out  of  his  body  crepeth. 

Sk.,  E,  1100-1134 


414  CHAUCER  911-943 

His  son?  succedeth  in  his  heritage 

In  reste  and  pees,  after  his  fader  day; 

And  fortunat  was  eek  in  mariage, 

Al  putte  he  not  his  wyf  in  greet  assay. 

This  world  is  nat  so  strong,  it  is  no  nay, 

As  it  hath  been  in  olde  tymes  yore, 

And  herkneth  what  this  auctour  seith  therfore. 

This  storie  is  seyd,  nat  for  that  wyves  sholde 

Folwen  Grisilde  as  in  humilitee, 

For  it  were  importable  though  they  wolde; 

But  for  that  every  wight,  in  his  degree, 

Sholde  be  constant  in  adversitee 

As  was  Grisilde :  therfore  Petrark  wryteth 

This  storie,  which  with  heigh  style  he  endyteth. 

For  sith  a  womman  was  so  pacient 
Un-to  a  mortal  man,  wel  more  us  oghte 
Receyven  al  in  gree  that  God  us  sent; 
For  greet  skil  is  he  preve  that  he  wroghte. 
But  he  ne  tempteth  no  man  that  he  boghte, 
As  seith  Seint  lame,  if  ye  his  pistel  rede; 
He  preveth  folk  al  day,  it  is  no  drede. 

But  o  word,  lordinges,  herkneth  er  I  go: — 

It  were  ful  hard  to  finde  now  a  dayes 

In  al  a  toun  Grisildes  three  or  two; 

For  if  that  they  were  put  to  swiche  assayes, 

The  gold  of  hem  hath  now  so  badde  alayes 

With  bras  that,  thogh  the  coyn  be  fair  at  ye, 

It  wolde  rather  breste  a-two  than  plye. 

For  which  heer,  for  the  wyves  love  of  Bathe, 
Whos  lyf  and  al  hir  secte  God  mayntene 
In  heigh  maistrye,  and  elles  were  it  scathe, 
I  wol  with  lusty  herte  fresshe  and  grene 
Seyn  yow  a  song  to  glade  yow,  I  wene, 

Sk.,  E,  1135-1 155;   1163-H74 


944-975  THE   CAUNTERBURY  TALES  415 

And  lat  us  stinte  of  ernestful  matere. 
Herkneth  my  song,  that  seith  in  this  manere: — 

Grisilde  is  deed,  and  eek  hir  pacience, 
And  bothe  atones  buried  in  Itaille; 
For  which  I  crye  in  open  audience 
No  wedded  man  so  hardy  be  tassaille 
His  wyves  pacience,  in  hope  to  finde 
Grisildes,  for  in  certein  he  shall  faille! 

O  noble  wyves,  f  ul  of  heigh  prudence, 

Lat  noon  humilitee  your  tonge  naille, 

Ne  lat  no  clerk  have  cause  or  diligence 

To  wryte  of  yow  a  storie  of  swich  mervaille 

As  of  Grisildis,  pacient  and  kinde, 

Lest  Chichevache  yow  swelwe  in  hir  entraille! 

Folweth  Ekko,  that  holdeth  no  silence, 
But  evere  answereth  at  the  count retaille; 
Beth  nat  bidaffed  for  your  innocence, 
But  sharply  tak  on  yow  the  governaille. 
Emprinteth  wel  this  lesson  in  your  minde 
For  commune  profit,  sith  it  may  availle. 

Ye  archewyves,  stondeth  at  defence, 
Sin  ye  be  stronge  as  is  a  greet  camaille; 
Ne  suffreth  nat  that  men  yow  doon  offence. 
And  sclendre  wyves,  feble  as  in  bataille, 
Beth  egre  as  is  a  tygre  yond  in  Inde, 
Ay  clappeth  as  a  mille,  I  yow  consaille. 

.  Ne  dreed  hem  nat,  do  hem  no  reverence; 
For  though  thyn  housbonde  armed  be  in  maille, 
The  arwes  of  thy  crabbed  eloquence 
Shal  perce  his  brest,  and  eek  his  aventaille. 
In  lalousye  I  rede  eek  thou  him  binde, 
And  thou  shalt  make  him  couche  as  dooth  a  quaille. 

Sk..E,  1175-1206 


416  CHAUCER  976-981 

If  thou  be  fair,  ther  folk  ben  in  presence 

Shew  thou  thy  visage  and  thyn  apparaille; 

If  thou  be  foul,  be  free  of  thy  dispence, 

To  gete  thee  freendes  ay  do  thy  travaille. 

Be  ay  of  chere  as  light  as  leef  on  linde, 

And  lat  him  care,  and  wepe,  and  wringe,  and  waille! 

Here  endeth  the  Clerk  of  Oxenford  his  Tale. 

Sk.,E,  1207-1212 


VARIANT  READINGS 

The  following  list  includes  only  the  important  modifications  of  the  Skeat 
text,  either  where  there  is  no  manuscript  support  for  the  change,  or  where 
special  problems  of  grammar,  rime,  or  meter  are  involved.  It  has  seemed 
hardly  worth  while  to  note  all  the  instances  of  variation  from  the  norm  which 
we  have  established  for  any  particular  word;  the  general  principles  which  have 
been  followed  in  the  preparation  of  the  text  are  discussed  in  the  Introduction. 
The  manuscript  readings  are  taken  from  the  Chaucer  Society  prints,  and  minor 
differences  in  spelling  will  not  be  quoted.  For  the  sake  of  ease  in  comparison 
the  line-numbering  is  based  on  Skeat. 

The  Book  of  the  Duchesse.  Manuscripts:  B.  =  Bodley  638;  F.  =  Fair- 
fax 16;  T.  =  Tanner  346.  Th.  =  Thynne's  edition.  5.  Sleep;  Skeat  and 
MSS.  slepe.  6.  Take  no  keep;  MSS.  take  no  kepe;  Sk.  take  kepe.  14. 
SorwM',soMSS.;Sk.  [sory].  16.  Woote;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  wite.  23.  This; 
so  B.,  T.,  Th.;  Sk.  thus.  37-8.  Yeer,  neer;  Sk.  and  MSS.  yere,  nere. 
46.  Bed;  Sk.  and  MSS.  bedde.  51.  Play;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  playen.  52. 
Book;  Sk.  and  MSS.  boke.  60.  Among;  Sk.  and  MSS.  amonge.  67. 
Wol;  so  F.,  Th.;  Sk.  wolde.  77-8.  Horn,  com;  Sk.  and  MSS.  home,  come. 
82.  Hir  thoughte;  MSS.  her  thought;  Sk.  [he  dwelte].  93.  A-vow; 
Sk.  and  MSS.  a-vowe.  101.  This  lady;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  [she].  119.  Sleep; 
Sk.  and  MSS.  slepe.  128.  Took;  Sk.  and  MSS.  toke.  130.  Hir  to  slepe; 
so  MSS.;  Sk.  hir  [for]  to  slepe.  131.  Right  so;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  so.  133. 
Messager;  Sk.  and  MSS.  messagere.  134.  Neer;  so  T.;  Sk.  nere.  173-4. 
Best,  brest;  so  T.,  Th.;  Sk.  beste,  breste.  184.  Sleep;  Sk.  and  MSS. 
slepe.  185.  Up,  and  axed;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  up,  axed.  185.  Ther;  so  B.; 
Sk.  there.  192.  Sleep;  5*.  and  MSS.  slepe.  193.  Sleep;  Sk.  and  MSS. 
slepe.  199-200.  Feet,  heet;  Sk.  and  MSS.  fete,  hete.  204.  Am;  so 
MSS.;  Sk.  nam.  206.  Goode;  Sk.  and  MSS.  good.  206.  That; 
5*.  [look]  that.  207.  For  such  a  tyde;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  [at  which]  a 
tyde.  213.  Alias;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  A!  236.  To  slepe;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  [for] 
to  slepe.  259-60.  Gold,  fold;  so  T.;  Sk.  golde,  folde.  264.  Quene 
Alcione;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  Alcione.  294.  And;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  I.  295-6. 
Heep,  sleep;  MSS.  hepe,  slepe;  Sk.  hepe,  slepe.  300.  Overal;  so  MSS.; 
Sk.  al.  307-8.  Stevene,  hevene;  Sk.  and  MSS.  Steven,  heven.  328. 
And  of;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  of.  329.  And  of  King;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  and. 
330.  And  eek  of;  so  MSS.  Sk.  of.  331.  And  of;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  and. 
334.  And;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  [of].  347.  Cleer;  Sk.  and  MSS.;  clere.  348 
And  I;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  I.  348.  Bothe  up;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  up.  347-8.  Soun. 
doun;  Sk.  and  MSS.  soune,  doune.  357.  Took;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  [I]  took, 
376.  Horn;  Sk.  and  MSS.  home.  380.  And  so;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  and. 
395.  Have;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  han.  407-8.  Hevene,  sevene;  Sk.  and  MSS. 
heven,  seven.  437.  Rekene;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  rekened.  443.  Right  wonder; 
so  MSS.;  Sk.  wonder.  447.  Ook;  Sk.  and  MSS.  oke.  449-50.  Heer, 
neer;  Sk.  and  MSS.  here,  nere.  451.  Sitten;  Sk.  and  MSS.  sitte. 


4i8  VARIANT  READINGS 

485.  See;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  y-see.  517.  Had  y-gret;  so  MSS.;  Sk. 
[grette].  548.  Sire;  MSS.  sir;  Sk.  [good]  sir.  659-60.  Heer,  chekker; 
B.  her,  chekere;  Sk.  here,  chekkere.  660.  Maat  in  the;  MSS.  mate 
in  the;  Sk.  mate  in.  745.  That  may;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  may  that 
750.  Upon  a;  so  T.,  Th.;  Sk.  up.  753.  Swer;  Sk.  and  MSS.  swere. 
765.  Yeve;  so  B.,  Th.;  Sk.  yiven.  770.  Lord;  Sk.  and  MSS.  lorde. 
806.  Ther  that;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  ther.  818.  Seyen;  B.,  F.,  seyn;  T. 
sey;  Th.  sayne;  Sk.  seyn.  818.  Saw;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  saw  [ther].  819. 
Of;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  of  al.  823.  Other  planete;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  planete  is. 
825.  World;  Sk.  and  MSS.  worlde.  844.  Bettre;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  bet. 
853-4.  Everemor,  tresor;  Sk.  and  MSS.  evermore,  tresore.  883.  Look; 
Sk.  and  MSS.  loke.  895.  But  which;  so  MSS.,  Sk.  which.  911-12. 
VVerk,  derk;  Sk.  and  MSS.  werke,  derke.  916.  Ne;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  [they]  ne. 
926.  Wei  by;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  by.  930.  Yet  through;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  through. 
932.  Hire;  MSS.  hir;  5*.  hir  [ther].  934.  Record;  Sk.  and  MSS.  recorde. 
935-6.  Bond,  hond;  Sk.  and  MSS.  bonde,  honde.  948.  Heet;  Sk.  and 
MSS.  hete.  971.  Swere  wel;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  sweren.  994.  And  therto; 
so  MSS.;  Sk.  therto.  997.  Harm  was;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  was  harm.  998. 
Code;  so  T.;  Sk.  good.  1028.  In- to;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  to.  1029-30.  Carre- 
nar,  war;  Sk.  and  MSS.  Carrenare,  ware.  1051.  Her  with;  so  MSS.; 
Sk.  with.  1123-4.  Oliver,  heer;  Sk.  and  Mss.  Olivere,  here.  1126.  Sire; 
Sk.  and  MSS.  sir.  1126.  Tho;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  [right]  tho.  1139.  That; 
so  MSS.;  Sk.  that  [sir].  1141.  Doon;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  [y]-doon.  1150. 
World;  Sk.  and  MSS.  worlde.  1295-6.  Wer,  yeer;  B.  were,  yer;  Sk. 
were,  yere.  1311.  Word;  Sk.  and  MSS.  worde.  1316.  Was  ther;  so 
AfSS.;  Sk.  ther.  1322.  Ther  was;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  was.  1329.  Hond; 
Sk.  and  MSS.  honde.  1333.  Skeat  excludes  "And  that  anoon"/row  the 
quotation. 

The  Hous  of  Fame.  B.=Bodley  638;  F. = Fairfax  16;  P.  =Pepys  2006. 
Cx.=Caxlon's  edition;  Th.  =  Thynne's  edition.  8.  Why  this;  so  MSS.; 
Sk.  this.  ii.  Why  these;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  these.  20.  This  is;  so  MSS.; 
Sk.  this.  95.  Scorn ;  Sk.  and  AISS.  scorne.  100.  Sith;  so  M SS.;  Sk.  sith 
that.  127.  Werk;  Sk.  and  MSS.  werke.  153.  With;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  [that] 
with.  491.  Saw  I  me  to;  so  P.,  Cx.,  Th.;  Sk.  saw  me  [for]  to.  611.  Done; 
Sk.  and  MSS.  do.  675.  And  of;  so  P.,  Cx.,  Th.;  Sk.  of.  757-8.  Couth, 
mouth;  so  B.;  P.  kowth,  mowthe;  Sk.  couthe,  mouthe.  764.  Herke; 
so  MSS.;  Sk.  herkne.  827.  That  same  place;  B.  that  som  styde;  F.  sum 
place  styde;  Th.  that  some  stede;  Sk.  that  [the  mansioun].  924.  Moche; 
B.  much;  F.  and  Sk.  moch.  979-80.  Wer,  heer;  Sk.  and  MSS.  were,  here. 
995.  "And  why"?  Sk.  includes  in  the  following  quotation.  1056.  Telle; 
so  F.,  Cx.;  Sk.  tel.  1135.  Bilte;  so  B.,  Th.;  Sk.  bilt.  1173.  Ne;  so 
MSS.;  Sk.  ne  [be].  1177.  Crete;  so  MSS.,  Sk.  grete  craft.  1185.  Bothe 
the;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  bothe.  1415.  And  thus;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  thus.  1483. 
Poete,  Virgyle;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  poete,  [dan]  Virgyle.  1527.  Into;  so  MSS.; 
Sk.  in.  1558.  Yef;  so  P.;  Sk.  give.  1568.  Messager;  so  Cx.;  B.  messa- 
gere;  Sk.  messanger.  1618.  Wote:  so  P.,  Cx.,  Th.;  Sk.  wite.  1625. 


VARIANT  READINGS  419 

Sclaundre;  so  B.,  F.,  P.,  Th.;  Sk.  Sclaunder.  1666.  Werkes;  so  MSS.;  Sk. 
werk.  1679-80.  Mouth,  south;  so  B.,  P.,  Cx.;  Sk.  mouthe,  southe. 
1685.  Mouth  hit;  P.  mouth  it;  Cx.  trompe  it;  Sk.  mouthe.  1686.  Pot-ful 
of;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  pot-ful.  1693-4.  Bright,  might;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  brighte, 
mighte.  1701.  Werkes;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  werk.  1713-4.  Wode,  gode; 
so  F.,  P.;  B.,  Th.,  woode,  good;  Sk.  wood,  good.  1747-8.  Wode,  gode; 
so  F.,  P.,  Cx.;  B.,  Th.,  woode,  good;  Sk.  wood,  good.  1765.  Quod  she; 
so  P.,  Cx.,  Th.;  Sk.  let  see.  1775.  That;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  That  fye]. 
1804.  Sooth;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  [the]  sooth.  1805.  So;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  [al]  so. 
1821.  List;  so  F.,  P.,  Cx.,  Th.;  B.  liste;  Sk.  listeth.  1823.  Com;  so  P., 
Cx.;  Sk.  come.  1824.  Can;  so  B.,  P.,  Cx.,  Th.;  Sk.  gonne.  1853.  Be; 
so  B.,  Cx.:  Sk.  be  [but].  1902.  Dwelled;  so  B.,  F.,  Th.;  Sk.  dwelte. 
1905-6.  Doom,  com;  Sk.  and  MSS.  dome,  come.  1936.  Maad,  Sk.  and 
MSS.  made.  1961.  Werres,  so  MSS.;  Sk.  werre.  1962.  Restes;  so 
MSS.;  Sk.  reste.  1963-4.  Lyf,  stryf;  so  Cx.;  Sk.  lyfe,  stryve.  1976. 
And;  MSS.  and  of;  Sk.  of.  1997.  Paraunter;  so  Th.;  Sk.  paraventure. 
2003-4.  Ther-in,  gin;  so  Th.;  B.  theryn,  gynne;  Sk.  ther-inne,  ginne;  cf. 
Leg.  G.  W.,  11.  1784-5.  2009.  These;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  [swiche].  2021. 
Yaf  in;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  yaf.  2026.  Heer  anoon;  so  B.,  F.;  Sk.  anoon-heer. 
2044.  Everich;  so  Cx.,  Th.;  Sk.  lech].  2053.  And  thus,  and  thus;  so 
MSS.;  Sk.  thus,  thus.  2075-6.  South,  mouth;  so  Cx.  B.;  Sk.  southe, 
mouthe.  2076.  Tydinge;  so  Cx.,  Th.;  Sk.  [word].  2103-4.  Wrooth, 
both;  so  B.;  Sk.  wrothe,  bothe.  2151.  Other;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  othere.  2153. 
Otheres;  Th.  others;  Sk.  othere. 

The  Parlement  of  Foules.  Arch. = Arch.  Seld.  B.  24,  Bodleian  Library; 
B.  =  Bodley  638;  D.  =  Digby  181,  Bodleian  Library;  F.=  Fairfax  16; 
Ff.=Ff.  i.  6, Cambridge  Univ.  Library ;Gg.=Gg 4.  27,  Camb.  Univ.  Library; 
H.=Harl  7333;  Hh.=MS.  Eh.  4.  12,  Camb.  Univ.  Library;  J.=LVII, 
St.  John's  College,  Oxford;  L.  =  Longleat  258;  Laud = Laud  MS.  416,  Bod- 
leian Library;  P.  =  Pepys  2006;  T.  =  Tanner  346;  Trin.  =  R.  3.  19,  Trinity 
Coll.  Cx.—Caxton's  edition.  37.  Afrike;  so  B.,  F.,  Ff.,  H.,  Hh.,  J.,  L., 
P.,  Trin.,  Cx.;  Sk.  Afrik.  124.  Were;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  weren.  142.  A— 
stonyed;  so  Arch.,  Gg.,  H.,  Hh.,  J.,  Laud,  P.,  Trin.;  Sk.  a  stounde. 
162-4.  Dill,  pul;  so  Arch.,  D.,  Gg.,  J.,  T.,  Trin.,  Cx.;  H.,  Hh.,  dulle, 
pull;  P.  dul,  pulle;  Sk.  dulle,  pulle.  351.  Sparwe;  so  B.,  Gg.,  J.,  T.; 
Sk.  sparow.  353.  Swalwe;  so  Gg.,  J.,  T.;  Sk.  swalow.  462.  Take;  so 
all  but  Gg.;  Sk.  tak.  550.  Blood;  so  Arch.,  Gg.  T.,  Cx.;  Sk.  blode. 
653-5-6.  Weye,  seye,  aweye;  so  Ff.,  Gg.;  D.  weye,  seye,  awey;  Sk.  wey, 
sey,  awey. 

Troilus  and  Criseyde.  Cl.  =  Campsall  MS.;  C p.  =  Cor  pus  Christi, 
Cambridge,  61;  Gg.  =  Gg.  4.  27,  Cambridge  Univ.  Library;  H1.  =  Harleian 
2280;  H2.  =  Harleian  3943;  H3.=Harleian  1239;  J.  =  L  i,  St.  John's 
College,  Cambridge. 

Book  I.  285.  Mevinge  (289,  meving);  so  Cp.,  H2.,  Hz.,  J.;  Cl. 
meuynge  (menyng);  Sk.  meninge  (mening).  312.  Word;  so.  Cl.,  Gg.t 


420  VARIANT  READINGS 

7/2.,  /.  ;  Sk.  worde.  569.  Sen;  so  Cp.,  J.,  7/1.,  H3.;  Sk.  see.  613.  Tolde; 
so  Cp.,  Gg.,  H1.,  H*.,  H3.,  J.;  Sk.  telle.  721.  Telle;  so  Cp.,  H3.;  Sk.  tel. 
729.  A-wak;  Sk.  and  MSS.  awake.  751.  Awak;  so  H1.  ;  Sk.  awake. 
753.  Crye;  so  Cp.,  Gg.,  H1.,  H2.,  H3.,  J.  ;  Sk.  cry.  780.  Bendiste;  so  Cp., 
H1.,  J.;  Sk.  benedicite.  878.  Far;  Sk.  and  MSS.  fare. 

Book  II.  Incipit  Liber  Secundus  moved  from  before  line  50;  Incipit  Pro- 
hemium  etc.  omitted.  95.  Herken;  so  CL,  Cp.,  Gg.,  H2.,  H3.,  J.;  Sk. 
herknen.  113.  Ey;  so  all  but  CL;  Sk.  A.  133.  Helpe;  so  H1.,  H3.;  J.; 
Sk.  help.  137.  Wol;  so  Cp.,  J.;  Sk.  wole.  400.  Wont;  so  Cp.,  H1.,  H*., 
H3.,  J.;  Sk.  woned.  405.  Which;  so  CL,  Cp.,  Gg.,  H3.,  J.;  Sk.  whiche. 
955.  Chees;  so  Gg.  (sches);  Sk.  chese.  1519.  Ly;  so  Gg.;  Sk.  lye. 

Book  III.  Incipit  Liber  Tercius  moved  from  before  line  50;  Incipit  Pro- 
hemium  etc.  omitted.  52-3.  Wol  (wol);  so  Cp.  (wole),  H1.,  H2.  (wole), 
(/.  wol);  Sk.  wole  (wole).  144.  Y-lyke;  so  Gg.,  H2.,  H3.;  Sk.  y-lyke  ay. 
148-50.  Requeste,  feste;  so  Cp.,  H1.,  H2.,  J.;  CL  request,  feste;  Sk. 
request,  fest.  360.  Aperil;  so  CL,  Cp.,  H1.,  H2.,  H3.,  J.;  Sk.  Aprille. 
535,  Maad;  so  Gg.,  J.;  Sk.  made.  683.  Took;  so  Cp.,  Gg.,  H1.,  J.;  Sk. 
toke.  798.  Shal;  so  all  but  CL;  Sk.  shalt.  982.  Clere;  so  Cp.,  H1.,  H2., 
H3.,  J.;  Sk.  cleer.  1141.  Candel;  so  H2.,  H3.,  J.;  Sk.  candele.  1459. 
Slayn;  so  Cp.,  Gg.,  H1.,  H2.,  H3.,  J.;  Sk.  shent.  1604.  Mot;  so  CL;  Sk. 
mote.  1626.  Worste;  so  CL,  Cp.,  Gg.,  H1.,  J.;  Sk.  worst. 

Book  IV.  Incipit  Quartus  Liber  moved  from  before  line  29;  Prohemium 
etc.  omitted.  108.  Sk.  puts  a  period  at  the  end  of  this  line.  337.  Hotter; 
so  Cp.,  H2.,  H3.,  J.;  Sk.  hottere.  658.  Far;  so  Gg.;  Sk.  fare.  730. 
Toke;  so  Cp.,  Gg.,  H2.,  H3.  token;  Sk.  took.  805.  Ich;  so  Cp.  H1.,  H3.,  J.; 
Sk.  1.  947.  Al  allone;  so  Cp.,  H3.,  J.;  Sk.  allone.  1132.  Woful;  so  all 
but  CL;  Sk.  wofulle.  1407.  Oo;  so  H3.;  Sk.  a.  1490.  Troians;  so  MSS. 
except  H2  (Troian);  Sk.  Troianes. 

Book  V.  81.  Hond;  so  CL,  Gg.;  Sk.  honde.  205.  Issu;  Sk.  and  MSS. 
(Gg.  isseu)  issue.  277.  Wonted;  so  CL;  Sk.  woned.  314.  Yef;  Sk.  and 
MSS.  yeve.  329.  Lat;  so  Cp.,  H1.,  J.;  Gg.,  H2.,  H3.  let;  5*.  lete. 
751-3-4.  West,  lest,  best;  so  CL,  Cp.,  Gg.;  H2.,  H3.,  J.  west,  lyste  (leste), 
beste;  Sk.  weste,  leste,  beste.  797.  Wol;  so  Cp.,  H1.,  J.;  H2.,  will;  Sk. 
wole.  1040.  Broch;  so  H1.;  Sk.  broche.  1161-2.  Arte,-carte;  so  MSS. 
except  H2.  (art,  carte);  Sk.  art,-cart.  1213.  The  wode;  so  CL,  Cp.,  H3.; 
Sk  wode.  1586.  That  she;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  she.  1594.  Syk;  so  Cp.,  Gg., 
Hl.;Sk.  syke. 

Chaucer's  Wordes  Unto  Adam.  T.  =  R.  3.  20,  Trinity  Coll.  Library; 
S.  =  Stowe's  edition.  3.  Thy  longe;  so  S.;  T.  thy  long;  Sk.  thy. 

Balade  from  the  Legende.  Add.1 = Add.  12524,  British  Museum; 
Add2 = Add.  9832;  Arch. = Arch.  Seld.  B.  24;  B.  =  Bodley  638;  F.= 
Fairfax  16;  Gg.  =  Gg.  4.  27,  Camb.  Univ.  Library;  P.  =  Pepys  2006;  T.= 
Tanner  346;  Trin.  =  R.  3.  19,  Trinity  College.  Th.  =  Thynne's  edition. 
250.  Leye;  Sk.  and  MSS.  ley.  253.  Make;  so  MSS.  except  Gg.; 
Sk.  mak. 


VARIANT  READINGS  421 

Trouthe.  Add.1  =  Add.  10340;  Add.2  =  Add.  22139;  Arch.1  =  Arch.  Seld. 
B.  24;  Arch  .*= Arch.  Seld.  B.  10;  Cl.=Cleopatra  D.  VII;  Cp.=Corpus 
Christi  203;  E.  =  Ellesmere;  F. l  =  Fairfax  16;  F.2  =  Fairfax  16  (second  copy) ; 
Gg.  =  Gg.  4.  27;  H.=Harleian  7333;  Hatton  =  Hatton  MS.  73;  L.=Lans- 
downe  699;  P.  =  Phillipps  8299;  Trin.1=Trin.  R.  3.  20;  Trin.2=Trin.  R. 
3.  20  (second  copy).  Cx.  —  Caxton's  edition,  i.  Dwell;  so  Add.2,  Arch.2, 
Cl.,  Cp.,  E.,  H.,  L.,  P.;  Sk.  dwelle.  8.  Tempeste;  Sk.  and  MSS.  tem- 
pest. 26.  Praye;  Sk.  and  Add.1  pray. 

Lenvoy  de  Chaucer  a  Scogan.  F.  =  Fairfax  16;  Gg.  =  Gg.  4.  27,  Camb. 
Univ.  Library;  P.=Pepys  2006.  Th.=Thynne's  edition.  8.  Word;  so 
Gg.,  P.;  Sk.  worde.  38.  Sleep  to  wake;  so  Gg.;  F.  slepe  to  wake;  Sk. 
slepe  wak.  45.  Streem;  so  Gg.;  Sk.  streme. 

Lenvoy  de  Chaucer  a  Bukton.  F.  =  Fairfax  16.  N.  =  Julian  Notary's 
edition;  Th.  =  Thynne's  edition.  10-12-13-15.  Evere,  nevere,  levere, 
dissevere;  so  F.;  Sk.  ever,  never,  lever,  dissever.  26.  Keep;  Sk.  and 
MSS.  kepe. 

Compleynte  of  Chaucer  to  his  Empty  Purs.  Add. = Add.  22139; 
F.  =  Fairfax  16;  Ff.  =Ff  i  .6,  Camb.  Univ.  Library;  H.1  =Harleian  2251; 
H*  =Harleian  7333;  P.  =Pepys  2006;  Ph.  =  Phillipps  MS.  9053.  Cx.  = 
Caxton's  edition,  i.  Purs;  so  Ff.,  P.,  Cx.;  Sk.  purse. 

The  Caunterbury  Tales.  Cp.  =  Corpus  Christi;  E. = Ellesmere;  Gg.  = 
Gg.  4.  27,  Camb.  Univ.  Library;  Hn.  =  Hengwrt;  L.=Lansdowne  851; 
P.=Petivorth: — all  taken  from  the  Six-text  Print. 

The  Prologe.  2.  March;  so  E.,  Hn.;  Sk.  Marche.  60.  Armee;  so  all 
except  Gg.;  Sk.  aryve.  120.  Seinte;  so  P.;  Sk.  seynt.  134.  Ther  was; 
so  MSS.;  Sk.  was.  164.  Chapeleyn;  so  Gg.,  P.;  Sk.  chapeleyne.  196. 
A  ful;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  a.  232.  Mote;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  moot.  257-8.  Whelp, 
help;  so  Gg.;  Sk.  whelpe,  helpe.  313.  Were;  so  Cp.,  Gg.;  Sk  weren. 
363.  And  they  were  clothed  alle;  so  MSS.  ;  Sk.  were  with  us  eek,  clothed. 
509.  Seynte;  so  Cp.;  Sk.  seynt.  697.  Seynte;  Sk.  and  MSS.  seynt. 
747.  Host;  so  Cp.,  E.,  Gg.,  Hn.;  Sk.  hoste.  850.  That  it;  so  MSS.; 
Sk.  it. 

Knightes  Tale.  942.  Which;  so  Gg.,  P.;  Sk.  whiche.  942.  Y-slawe; 
Sk.  and  MSS.  slawe.  1051-2.  Up-rist,  list;  so  P.;  Gg.  upriste,  lyst;  Sk. 
upriste,  liste.  1076.  Squar;  Sk.  and  MSS.  square.  1290.  Moste;  so 
MSS.;  Sk.  mot.  1493-4.  Bright,  light;  so  Cp.,  Gg.;  L.,  P.,  bright,  light; 
Sk.  brighte,  lighte.  1502.  Stertling;  so  E.,  Gg.,  Hn.;  Sk.  sterting  (cf.  LGW. 
1204).  1512.  In;  so  E.,  Gg.,  Hn.;  Sk.  I.  1669-70.  Yeer,  heer;  so  Hn.; 
Sk.  yere,  here.  1720.  Yif;  so  Gg.,  Hn.,  L.;  Sk.  yeve.  1892.  Lette;  so  E.; 
Sk.  letted.  1975-6  Forest,  beest;  so  E.,  Hn.;  Gg.,  L.,  forest,  beste; 
Sk.  foreste,  beste.  2001-2.  Bed,  bibled;  so  Gg.,  Hn.;  Sk.  bedde,  bibledde. 
2060.  Peynted;  so  MSS.;  Sk.  peynt.  2145.  Wreeth;  Sk.  and  MSS. 
wrethe.  2329.  Keep;  Sk.  and  MSS.  kepe.  2436.  In;  so  E.,  Gg.,  H.; 
Sk.  inne.  2534.  Of;  so  E.;  Sk.  of  the. 


422  VARIANT  READINGS 

Bihoold  the  murie  wordes  of  the  Hoost  to  the  lady  Prioresse  is  taken 
from  before  B  1625;  "to  the  Shipman  and"  is  omitted  from  between  Hoost 
and  to. 

The  Prologe  of  the  Prioresses  Tale.  1651.  Lilie;  so  E.,  Hn.,  L.;  Sk. 
lily.  1674.  Month;  so  Gg.,  Hn.;  Sk.  monthe. 

The  Prioresses  Tale.  1826.  The  Masse;  so  E.,  Gg.,  Hn.;  Sk.  masse. 

The  Nonne  Preestes  Tale.  4011.  Stape;  so  E.,  Hn.;  Sk.  stope.  4039. 
Heet;  so  E.,  Hn.;  Sk.  hight.  4343-4.  -Moor,  stoor;  so  E.,  Hn.;  Sk.  -more, 
store. 

The  Prologe  of  the  Pardoners  Tale.  351-2.  Sheep,  keep;  so  Cp.;  Sk. 
shepe,  kepe.  364.  lew;  so  E.,  Hn.;  Sk.  lewe.  441.  Poverte;  so  E.,  Gg., 
Hn.;  Sk.  povert.  448.  Moneye;  so  E.,  Gg.,  Hn.;  Sk.  money.  592. 
Deceit;  Cp.  disceipt;  Gg.  disseyd;  Sk.  deceite.  776.  Spak;  so  MSS.; 
Sk.  spake. 

The  Prologe  of  the  Wyves  Tale  of  Bathe.  604.  Seynte;  Sk.  and  AfSS. 
seynt. 

The  Clerkes  Tale.  59.  Playn;  so  P.;  Sk.  playne.  64-6.  Lond,  hond; 
so  E.,  Hn.,  P.;  Sk.  londe,  honde.  Before  939,  "  Explicit  quinta  pars. 
Sequitur  pars  sexta;  "  Sk.,  *' Pars  Sexta."  1168.  Coyn;  so  Gg.;  Sk. 
coyne.  "Lenvoy  de  Chaucer"  is  omitted  from  before  1177. 


GLOSSARY 


GLOSSARY 


In  general  only  such  words  are  included  in  this  glossary  as  differ  in 
form  or  meaning  from  the  corresponding  words  in  modern  English,  to- 
gether with  proper  names  and  a  few  notes.  Etymologies  are  supplied 
to  facilitate  the  study  of  the  language;  but  where  the  sources  of  the  words 
are  doubtful,  or  where  special  complications  arise,  this  material  is  omitted. 
If  the  source  is  identical  in  form  with  the  Middle  English  word,  the  form 
is  not  repeated,  but  is  merely  indicated  by  the  reference  to  the  language 
from  which  it  comes. 

The  following  abbreviations  are  used: 


A.  F.,  Anglo-French 

A.  S.,  Anglo-Saxon 

F.,  French 

L.,  Latin 

L.  L.,  Low  Latin 


A,  prep.,  on,  in. 

Abasshed,  Abaysed,  Abayst,  p. 

p.,  abashed,  disconcerted. 

O.  F.  esbahir. 


M.  E.,  Middle  English 
O.  F,,  Old  French 
O.  Du.,  Old  Dutch 
O.  N.,  Old  Norse 

Abyde,  v.,  abide,  wait  for.    A.  S. 

abldan. 
Abye,    v.,    pay   for,    suffer   for. 

A.  S.  abycgan. 
Accesse,    n.,    attack    of    fever. 

O.  F.  aces. 


Abbay,  n.,  abbey.    0.  F.  abbaie.    Accident,  n.,  the  outward  chang- 


Abet,  n.,   abetting,    instigation. 

O.  F. 
Abhominable,  adj.,  abominable, 

hateful.    F.  abominable. 
Abit,  v.,  third  pers.  sing.,   pres. 

indie.,  see  Abyde. 


ing  attribute   (as  opposed  to 

the  substance).    F.    Cf.  Sub- 

staunce. 
Accordaunt,   adj.,   agreeable  to. 

0.  F.  acordant. 
Accorde,  v.,  agree.   O.  F.  acorder. 


Able,    adj.,    able,    capable,    fit,    Accusement,  n.,  accusation.    O. 


suitable.    O.  F. 
Aboghte,  v.,   pret.,   see  Abye. 
Abood,  n.,  delay. 


F.  acusement. 
Accusour,  n.,   accuser,  revealer. 
0.  F.  acuseor. 


Abood,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Abyde.    Achat,  n.,  buying.     O.  F. 


Aboughte,  v.,  pret.,  see  Abye. 
Aboute,     adv.,      prep.,      about, 

around.    A.  S.  abutan. 
Aboven,    prep.,    above.      A.   S. 

abufon. 
Abrayde,    v.,    awake.       A.    S. 

abregdan. 
Abregge,    v.,    abridge,    shorten. 

O.  F.  abregier. 
Abreyde,  v.,  see  Abrayde. 
Absolucioun,  n.,  absolution.     F. 

absolution. 
Abusioun,     n.,     abuse,     deceit, 

scandal.    0.  F.  abusion. 


Achatour,    n.,    buyer.      O.    F. 

achateor. 

A-chekked,  p.  p.,  checked,  hin- 
dered. 
Acheve,     v.,     achieve.      0.    F. 

achever. 
Achitofel,    Ahithophel:    see    II 

Samuel,  xvi  fl. 
Acloyeth,    v.,    third    pers.    sing., 

pres.  indie.,   overburdens.    0. 

F.  encloer. 
Acord,  n.,  agreement,  harmony. 

O.  F.  acort,  acorde. 
Acordaunt,  adj.,  see  Accordaunt. 


425 


426  GLOSSARY 

Acorde,  v.,  see  Accorde.  A-fyre,  on  fire.     See  Fyr. 

Acorse,  v.,  see  Acurse.  Agame,  adv.,  in  play,  in  jest. 

Acoye,  v.,  quiet,  allure,  decoy.    Agaste,  v.,  terrify.    A.  S.  a 

O.  F.  acoier.  gaestan. 

Acquyte,     v.,     acquit.      0.     F.  Agayn,  adv.,  again.  A.S.  ongean. 

aquiter.  Agayn,  Agaynes,  prep.,  against, 

Acurse,  v.,  curse.  before.      A.   S.    ongean,   on- 

Acuse,  v.,  accuse,  blame.    O.  F.  geanes. 

acuser.  Agilte,  v.,  do  wrong,   offend. 

Acustomaunce,  n.,  habit.    O.  F.  Agon,    p.    p.,    gone    away,    de- 

accustumance.  parted.     From  Agon.     A.  S. 

Adamant,   Adamaunt,   n.,    ada-  agan. 

mant,   loadstone.     O.   F.  Agreable,  adj.,  agreeable.     F. 

Adawe,  v.,  awake.  A-greef,     Agref,     Agrief,     adv., 

Adoun,  Adonis.  sadly,  ill. 

A-doun,  adv.,  down,  downwards.  Agreve,  y.,  aggrieve,  vex.    O.  F. 

A.  S.  of— dune.  agrever. 

Adrad,  p.  p.,  afraid.    See  Drede.  Agroos,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Agryse. 

A.  S.  ofdradan.  Agryse,  v.,  shudder,  feel  terror. 

Adriane,  Ariadne.  A.  S.  agrisan. 

Adversarie,   n.,   adversary.     L.  Agu,  n.,  ague.    O.  F.  ague. 

adversarius.  Ake,  v.,  ache.     A.  S.  acan. 

Adversitee,    n.,    adversity.      F.  Al,  adj.,  all.     A.  S.  call. 

adversite.  Al,  n.,  awl.     A.  S. 

Advertence,  n.,  attention.    O.  F.  Alabastre,    n.,     alabaster.       L. 

Advocacyes,   n.,    pleas.     O.   F.  alabaster. 

avocacie.  Alambyk,  n.,  alembic:  a  kind  of 

Afer,  adv.,  afar.  retort   for    distilling.      O.    F. 

A-fere,  on  fire.    See  Fyre.  alambic. 

A-fered,    Aferd,    p.    p.,    afraid.  Alaunts,  n.,  plu.,  large  hunting 

From  Af ere,    A.  S.  afseran.  dogs.    O.  F.  alan. 

Affeccioun,    n.,'    affection.      F.  Alayes,  n.,  plu.,  alloys.     O.  F. 

affection.  alei. 

Affect,  n.,  desire.     L.  Alceste,  Alcestis. 

Afferme,     v.,     affirm.       0.     F.  Alcipyades,  Alcibiades. 

afermer.  Alcyone,  Halcyone. 

Affiance,  n.,  trust.    O.  F.  afiance.  Alday,  adv.,  all  day,  continually. 

Affray,  n.,  fright,  terror.    O.  F.  Alderbest,    adj.,    adv.,     superl., 

esfrei.  best  of  all.    See  Aller. 
Affraye,  v.,  frighten.    O.  F.  es-  Alderfaireste,  adj.,  superl.,  fair- 
freer,  est  of  all.     See  Aller. 
Affyle,  v.,  smooth,  polish.    O.  F.  Alderfirst,  adj.,  adv.,  superl.,  first 

afiler.  of  all.    See  Aller. 

Afor-yeyn,  prep.,   over  against.  Alder-lest,  adv.,  superl.,  least  of 

African:  Scipio  Africanus  Major.  all.    See  Aller. 

See  Macrobie.  Alderlevest,  adv.,  superl.,  dearest 

Afrighte,    v.,    frighten.      A.    S.  of  all.    See  Aller. 

afyrhtan.  Aldermost,  adv.,  superl.,  most  of 

Afrike,  Africa.  all.    See  Aller. 

After,    adv.,    afterwards,    next.  Alder-next,  adv.,  superl.,  nearest 

A.  S.  after.  of  all.    See  Aller. 

After,  prep.,  according  to,  later  Alderwysest,  adj.,  superl,  wisest 

than.     A.  S.  aefter.  of  all.    See  AUer. 


GLOSSARY 


427 


Alestake,  n.,  a  stake  or  pole 
projecting  from  an  alehouse 
to  support  a  sign  or  "bush." 
A.  S.  ealu — staca. 

Alete,  Alecto:  one  of  the  Furies. 

Aley,  n.,  alley.     O.  F.  alee. 

Aleyn,  Alanus  de  Insulis  or 
Alain  de  L'Isle:  a  Cistercian 
monk  of  the  twelfth  century, 
author  of  De  Planctu  Nature 
and  the  Anticlaudianus. 

Algate,  Algates,  adv.,  always, 
in  any  case,  at  any  rate.  O.  N. 
alia  gotu. 

Algezir,  Algeciras:  a  city  in 
Spain. 

Alighte,  v.,  alight.    A .  S.  alihtan. 

Alisaundre,  Alexander. 

Alisaundre,  Alexandria. 

Alle,  adj.,  dat.  sing.;  plu.;  see  Al. 

Allegge,  v.,  adduce,  cite.  O.  F. 
esligier. 

Aller,  adj.,  gen.  plu.,  see  Al.  A.  S. 
ealra.  See  Alder — ,  Alther — . 

Alliaunce,  n.,  alliance,  espousal. 
O.  F.  aliance. 

Allone,  adj.,  alone.  A.  S.  eal — 
an. 

Alma  redemptoris,  first  words  of 
a  Latin  hymn:  Alma  redemp- 
toris mater.  There  are  several 
hymns  with  this  beginning. 

Almena,  Alcmena. 

Almes-dede,  n.,  alms-deed.  A. 
S.  aelmysse — dsed  /. 

Along  on,  prep.,  owing  to. 

Alose,  v.,  praise,  commend.  O. 
F.  aloser. 

Al-outerly,  adv.,  entirely,  ab- 
solutely. 

Also,  adv.,  conj.,  also,  so,  as. 
A.  S.  ealswa. 

Altercacioun,  n.,  altercation,  dis- 
pute. F.  altercation. 

Altheigh,  conj.,  although.  A.  S. 
eal — J?eah. 

Altherfastest,  adv.,  as  fast  as 
possible.  See  Aller. 

Altherfirst,  adj.,  adv.,  superl.,  first 
of  all.  See  Aller. 

Althogh,  conj.,  see  Altheigh. 

Alwey,  adv.,  always.  A.  S.  eal — 
weg. 


A-lyve,  alive.     See  On-lyve. 
Amadrides,  n.,  plu.,  hamadryads. 
Amayed,  p.  p.,  dismayed.    O.  F. 

amaier. 

Amazones,  Amazons. 
Ambages,    n.,    plu.,    ambiguous 

words.     L. 

Ambler,  n.,  an  ambling  nag. 
Amende,      v.,      amend,      make 

amends,  improve.  F.  amender. 
Ameved,  v.,  pret.  indie.;  p.  p.; 

moved,   changed.     O.   F.   es- 

movoir. 
Amiddes,    adv.,    in    the    midst; 

prep.,  in  the  midst  of.     A.  S. 

on  rniddan. 
Amis,  adv.,  amiss. 
Among,  adv.,  all  the  while.    A.  S. 

onmang. 

Anionges,  prep.,  amongst. 
Amorwe,  on  the  morrow,  in  the 

morning.    See  Morwe. 
Amphibologyes,    n.,    plu.,    am- 
biguities.   0.  F.  amphibologie. 
Amphiorax,  Amphiaraus. 
Amphioun,  Amphion. 
Amy,  n.,  friend.     0.  F. 
An,  prep.,  on.     A.  S. 
Ancle,  n.,  ankle.    A.  S.  ancleow. 
Angre,  n.,  anger,  trouble.    0.  N. 

angr. 

Anguisshous,  adj.,  anxious. 
Angwish,   n.,   anguish.     F.   an- 

goisse. 
Anhange,  v.,  hang.     A.  S.  on- 

hangian. 
Anlas,  n.,  short,  two-edged  knife 

or  dagger. 

Anon,  adv.,  immediately,  straight- 
way, anon.     A.  S.  on — an. 
Anon-right,    adv.,    immediately, 

straightway. 
Anoy,  n.,  vexation,  trouble.     O. 

F.  anoi. 
Anoye,   v.,    annoy,    vex,    injure.       v 

O.  F.  anoier. 
Answere,    n.,    answer.      A.    S. 

andswaru. 
Anteclaudian,  the  Anticlaudianus. 

See  Aleyn. 
Antem,    n.,     anthem.       A.    S. 

antefn;  L.  antiphona. 
Anthenor,  Antenor:  who,  accord- 


428 


GLOSSARY 


ing  to  Gui'lo's  Historia,  betrayed 

Troy  by  sending  the  Palladium 

to  Ulysses. 

Antiphoner,     n.,     anthem-book. 
Apaas,  adv.,  at  a  footpace.    See 

Pas. 
Apaire,   v.,    impair,    deteriorate. 

O.  F.  empeirer. 
Apalled,  p.  p.,  rendered  pale  or 

feeble.     0.  F.  apalir. 
Aparaile,    n.,    apparel.      O.    F. 

apareil. 

Aparceyve,    v.,    see   Aperceyve. 
Apayed,  p.  p.,  pleased,  satisfied. 

O.  F.  apaier. 
Apeire,  v.,  see  Apaire. 
Apeise,  v.,  see  Apese. 
Aperceyve,  v.,  perceive,  discern. 

F.  apercevoir. 
Aperill,  April.     See  Aprille. 
Apert,  adj.,  open,  manifest;  adv., 

openly,   manifestly.     0.   F. 
Apertenant,   adj.,   belonging  to. 

O.  F.  apartenir. 
Apese,  v.,  appease,  pacify.    0.  F. 

apaisier. 

Apeyre,  v.,  see  Apaire. 
Apotecarie,  n.,  apothecary.    O.  F. 
Apoynte,    v.,    appoint.      O.    F. 

apointier. 

Appalled,  p.  p.,  see  Apalled. 
Apparaille,  n.,  see  Aparaile. 
Apparence,  n.,  appearance,  seem- 

ing,  apparition.    0.   F.   apar- 


Appelles:  a  Grecian  painter; 
but,  according  to  Gaultier  de 
Chatillon  (in  the  sixth  book  of 
the  Alexandreid),  a  Jewish 
sculptor  who  erected  the  tombs 
of  Darius  and  his  wtfe. 

Appetyt,  n.,  appetite,  desire. 
F.  appetit. 

Apppllo,  Apollo. 

Aprille,  April.     See  Aperill. 

Aproche,  v.,  approach.  O.  F. 
aprochier. 

Apyked,  p.  p.,  adorned. 

Aqueyntaunce,  n.,  acquaintance. 
O.  F.  acointance. 

Aqueynte,  t>.,  acquaint.  O.  F. 
acointier. 

Aquyte,  v.,  see  Acquyte. 


Arace,  v.,  eradicate,  tear  away. 

A.  F.  aracer. 
Aragon,  Arragon. 
Aray,   n.,   array,   dress.     O.   F. 

arrei. 
Arayed,  p.  p.,  arrayed,  dressed, 

equipped.     0.  F.  arraier. 
Archeer,     n.,     archer.       O.     F. 

archier. 
Archewyves,     n.,     plu.,     arch- 

wives,    ruling   wives.      A.   S. 

arce—  wif. 
Arede,     v.,     explain,     interpret. 

A.  S.  arsedan. 
Arest,  n.,  arrest;  the  rest  for  a 

lance.     O.  F. 
Areste,  v.,  arrest,  stop.     O.  F. 

arester. 
Arette,  v.,  ascribe,  impute.    O.  F. 

areter. 
Arge,  Argos. 
Argumente,   v.,    argue.      L.   ar- 

gumentari. 
Argus:     confused     with     Algus, 

the  O.  F.  name  for  the  Arabian 

mathematician    through    whose 

book  Arabic  numerals  became 

known  in  Europe. 
Arguwe,  v.,  argue.     F.  arguer. 
Ariete,     Aries:     the     Ram,     the 

zodiacal  sign  for  the  latter  part 

of  March  and  the  first  part  of 

April. 
Ariones  harpo,  Arion's  harp:  the 

constellation  Lyra. 
Arivaile,     n.,     arrival,     landing. 

O.  F.  arrivaille. 
Armee,  n.,   expedition.     0.  F. 
Arm-greet,  adj.,  as  large  as  an 

arm.     A.  S.  arm  —  great. 
Annipotente,   adj.,    powerful   in 

arms.     L.  armipotens. 
Armonye,  n.,  harmony.     0.  F. 

armonie. 
Armurers,    n.,     plu.,    armorers, 

F.  armurier. 

Arn,  v.,  pres.  plu.,  are.    See  Ben. 
Aroos,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Aryse. 
A-roume,  adv.,  at  large.     A.  S. 

on  —  rum. 
A-rowe,    adv.,    in    a    row.      See 

Rewe. 
Arrayed,  p.  p.,  see  Arayed. 


GLOSSARY  429 

Arrerage,  n.,  arrears.    F.  Assoille,    v.,    absolve,    pardon. 
Arrette,  v.,  see  Arette.  O.  F.  assoudre. 

Arrivage,  n.,  coming  to  shore.    F.  Assure,  v.,  feel  secure,  take  or 
Ars  metrik,  n.,  arithmetic.  give  confidence.  O.  F. asseurer. 

Art,  n.,  art,  cunning,  kind,  sort.  F.  Asswage,  v.,   assuage,   mitigate. 
Arte,  v.,  pron.,  second  pers.  sing.,        0.  F.  asuagier. 

pres.    indie.,    art    thou.     See  Assyse,  n.,  assize,  session.    0.  F. 

Ben.  assise. 

Arte,    v.,    constrain,    urge.      L.  Asterte,  v.,  escape. 

artare.  Astoned,  p.  p.,  see  Astonie. 

Artow,    v.,    pron.,    second    pers.  Astonie,  v.,  astonish.     O.  F.  es- 

sing.,   pres.   indie.,    art    thou.         toner. 

See  Ben.  Astored,  p.  p.,  stored,  provided. 

Artoys,  Artois.  Astronomye,  n.,  astronomy.    F. 
Arwe,  n.,  arrow.    A.  S.  arewe.          astronomic. 

Aryse,  v.,  arise,  be  raised.    A.  S.  Asure,  n.,  azure.     F.  azur. 

arisaii.  Asweved,  p.  p.,  dazed.     A.  S. 
As,  adv.,  conj.,  as,  so  (in  assevera-        aswebban. 

tions).     A.  S.  ealswa.  Aswowne,  adv.  from  p.  p.,  in  a 
Ascaunce,    adv.,    as    if    to    say.        swoon. 

M.  E.  as — 0.  F.  quanses.  Asyde,  adv.,  aside.     See  Syde. 

Ascencioun    of    the    equinoxial,  Asye,  Asia. 

ascension  of  the  equinoctial:  Atempre,  adj.,  temperate,  mod- 

fifteen  degrees  of  the  equinoctial,        erate.    0.  F. 

which    make    an     hour.       F.  Athalaunte,  Atalanta. 

ascension.  Athalus,  Attalus:  the  fabled  in- 
Ascendent,    n.,    the    degree    of        ventor  of  chess. 

the  ecliptic  rising  above  the  Athamaunt,  n.,  see  Adamant. 

horizon  at  a  given  moment.  Athamente,      Athamas:      Juno 

O.  F.  caused   Athamas,   the  husband 

Ascry,  n.,  alarm.    0.  F.  escri.  of  Ino,  to  run  mad.    See  Ovid, 

Ashame,  v.,  shame,  put  to  shame.        Metam.  iv,  416  ff. 

A.  S.  on— scamian.  Athenes,  Athenis,  Athens. 

Ashe,  n.,  ash  tree.     A.  S.  aesc.  Athinke,    v.,    displease.      A.    S. 
Asonder,  adv.,  asunder.  of]?yncan. 

Asp,  n.,  aspen  tree.    A.  S.  aesp.  Atiteris:     perhaps    Tyrtaeus    or 
Aspect,  n.,  (astrological)  planet-        Tityrus. 

ary  relation:  the  situation  of  Atlantes  doughtres,  the  daughters 

two  planets  with  respect  to  each        of   Atlas:    the  constellation   of 

other.  the  Pleiades. 

Aspre,  adj.,  sharp,  bitter.    O.  F.  At  ones,  adv.,  at  once. 

Aspye,  n.,  spy.     0.  F.  espie.  Atoon,  adv.,  at  one. 

Aspye,  v.,  spy,  see.    O.  F.  espier.  At-rede,  v.,  surpass  in  counsel. 
Assaut,  n.,  assault.     O.  F.  A.  S.  aet — rsedan. 

Assay,  n.,  trial.     0.  F.  asai.  At-renne,  v.,  surpass  in  running. 
Assaye,  v.,  test,  prove,  try.    O.F.        A.  S.  aet — rinnan. 

asaier.  Attained,  p.  p.,  broached.    0.  F. 
Asse,  n.,  ass.     A.  S.  assa.  atamer. 

Assege,  n.,  siege,  besieging  force.  Attempre,   adj.,   see  Atempre. 

Assege,  v.,  besiege,  lay  siege  to.  Attendaunce,  n.,  attendance.    O. 

O.  F.  asegier.  F.  atendance. 

Asshen,  n.,  plu.,  ashes.     A.  S.  Atteyne,     v.,     attain.      0.     F. 

aesce.  ataindre. 


430  GLOSSARY 

Atthalaunte,  Atalanta.  Avoy,  interj.,  fie!    0.  F.  avoi. 

Attheon,  Actaeon.  Avys,  n.,  advice,  consideration, 

Attricioun,    n.,    attrition,    grief  opinion.    0.  F.  avis. 

for  sin   arising  from   fear  of  Avyse,   v.,    consider,   deliberate. 

punishment.     L.  attritio.  0.  F.  aviser. 

Attropos,  Atropos.  Avysement,     n.,     consideration, 

Atwinne,    adv.,    apart.      A.    S.  counsel.    0.  F.  avisement. 

on — getwinne.  Awayt,  n.,  watch,  waiting.    O.  F. 

Atwixen,  prep.,  between.  await. 

Atwo,    adv.,    in    twain.      A.   S.  Awey,  Aweye,  adv.,  away,  astray, 

on — twa.  out  of  the  way.   A .  S.  on — weg. 

Atyr,  n.,  attire,  dress.    0.  F.  atir.  Awhaped,   p.   p.,   amazed,    con- 

Auctor,  n.,  see  Auctour.  founded. 

Auctoritee,  n.,  authority.    0.  F.  Ay,  adv.,  aye,  ever.    O.  N.  ei. 

autorite.  Ayein,    Ayeins,   adv.,   prep.,   see 

Auctour,  n.,  author.    O.  F.  autor.  Agayn,  Agaynes. 

Audience,  n.,  hearing.     0.  F.  Ayeinward,  adv.,   again,  on  the 

Auditour,  n.,  auditor.     O.  F.  other  hand. 

Auffrike,  Africa.    Cf.  Afrike.  Ay  el,  n.,  grandfather.    F.  aieul. 

Auncestre,  n.,  ancestor.     0.  F.  Ayle,  v.,  ail.     A.  S.  eglan. 

ancestre. 

Aungel,  n.,  angel.    O.  F.  angele. 

Aungellyk,  adj.,  angelic.  Babewinnes,  n.,  plu.,  grotesque 

Austin,    Saint   Augustine    (354-  figures. 

430):  Bishop  of   Hippo,  from  Babiloyne,  Babylon. 

whose  writings  the  Augustinian  Bach  el  er,  n.,  a  youth,  aspirant 

rule  was  compiled.  to  knighthood.     O.  F. 

Auter,  n.,  altar.    0.  F.  Bachelrye,  n.,  company  of  young 

Avale,  v.,  fall,  sink.    O.  F.  avaler.  men.    O.  F.  bachelerie. 

Avantage,  n.,  advantage.    O.  F.  Bacoun,  n.,  bacon.    O.F.  bacon. 

Avaunce,  v.,  advance,  promote.  Badde,  adj.,  bad.     A.S.  baeddel? 

O.  F.  avancer.  Baggepype,  n.,  bagpipe. 

Avaunt,  n.,  vaunt,  boast.    0.  F.  Baggeth,  v.,  third  pers.  sing.,  looks 

Avauntage,  n.,  see  Avantage.  askant. 

Avaunte,  v.,  boast.   O.  F.  avanter.  Baillif,  n.,  bailiff.    0.  F. 

Avauntour,  n.,   boaster.     0.   F.  Bak,  n.,  back.     A.  S.  baec. 

avanteur.  Bake,  p.  p.,  baked.    From  Bake. 

Avayle,  v.,  avail.  A.  S.  bacan. 

Aventaille,     n.,     the     moveable  Bal,  n.,  ball. 

mouthpiece  of  a  helmet.     0.  Balaunce,  n.,  balance,  suspense. 

F.  avantaille.  0.  F.  balance. 

Aventure,    n.,    chance,    fortune.  Baldeswelle,  Baldeswell  in  Nor- 

O.  F.  folk. 

Averrois,  Averroes:    a   Moorish  Bale,    n.,    bale,    harm.      A.    S. 

scholar  of  the  twelfth  century.  bealu,  balu. 

Avicen,   Avicenna:    an   Arabian  Balled,  adj.,  bald. 

philosopher   and    physician   of  Ballenus:  see  Hermes. 

the  eleventh  century.  Bane,     n.,     bane,     destruction, 

Avisioun,    n.,     vision.      O.    F.  death.     A.  S.  bana. 

avision.  Baner,  n.,  banner.    O.  F.  baniere. 

Avouterye,  n.,  adultery.     O.  F.  Bar,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Bere. 

avouterie.  Barbe,    n.,    barb:    a    part   of  a 

Avow,  n.,  vow,  avowal.  woman's  head-dress,  consisting 


GLOSSARY  431 

of   a    piece    of    white    plaited  Bek,  n.,  beak.     F.  bee. 

linen  passed  over  or  under  the  Bekke,  v.,  nod.    (M.  E.  bekenen, 

chin  and  reaching  midway  to        A.  S.  beacnian,  bycnian.) 

the  waist.  0.  F.  Bel  amy,  good  friend,  fair  friend. 
Barbour,  n.,  barber,  0.  F.  O.  F.  bel  ami.  Bele,  adj., 

barbeor.  fair,  beautiful.     O.  F.  bel. 

Bareyn,    adj.,    barren.      O.    F.  Belle,    n,    bell.      A.    S.    belle. 

brehaing.  Bere  the  belle,  be  the  first. 

Bargaynes,    n.,    plu.,    bargains.  Belmarye,  Benamarin:  a  Moor- 

O.  F.  bargagne.  ish  kingdom  in  Africa. 

Barm,  n.,   bosom,   lap.     A.  S.  Belwe,  v.,  bellow.    A.  S.  bylgean. 

bearm.  Berne,  n.,  trumpet.    A.  S. 

Baroun,  n.,  baron.    0.  F.  baron.  Bemes,  n.,  plu.,  see  Beem. 

Barre,  n.,   bar,   stripe  across  a  Ben,  v.,  be.     A.  S.  beon. 

girdle.    0.  F.  Bene,  n.,  bean.     A.  S.  bean/. 

Bataille,  n.,  battle,  fight,  troop.  Benediste,  Benedicite:   bless  ye 

O.  F.  (the  Lord). 

Batailled,  p.  p.,  embattled.    0.  F.  Benefyce,  n.,  benefice.    F.  bene- 

bateillier.  fice. 

Baude,  n.,  bawd.  Beneit,  Benedict. 

Bauderye,   n.,   bawdry.     O.   F.  Benigne,     adj.,     benign,     kind, 

bauderie.  gracious.    O.  F. 

Bawdrik,  n.,  baldric:  belt  worn  Benignitee,  n.,  benignity,  good- 

transversely  over  one  shoulder.        ness.     O.  F.  benignete. 

0.  F.  (cf.  baldrei).  Bent,  n.,  grassy  slope.  A.  S. 
Bawme,  n.,  balm.  O.  F.  bausme.  beonet. 

Bayte,    v.,    bait,    feed.     0.    N.  Berd,  n.,  beard.     Make  a  berd, 

beita.  deceive.     A.  S.  beard. 

Beblotte,  ».,  blot.  Bere,  n.,  bear.     A.  S.  bera. 

Bede,  v.,  offer,  proffer,  command.  Bere,  n.,  bier.    A.  S.  bser/. 

A.  8.  beodan.  Bere,  n.,  pillow  covering.  Cf. 
Bede,  v.,  pret.  plu.;  p.  p.;  see  pilwe-beer. 

Bidde.  Bere,  v.,  bear.  A.  S.  beran. 
Bedes,  n.,  plu.,  beads.  A.S.bed.  Bere  on  honde,  accuse,  make 
Beem,  n.,  beam.  A.  S.  beam.  (a  person)  believe. 

Been,     n.,    plu.,    bees.      A.    S.  Berie,  v.,  bury.     A.  S.  byrgan. 

beo.  Berking,  s.,  barking.  A.  S. 
Beer,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Bere.  beorcan. 

Beest,  n.,  beast.     0.  F.  beste.  Bern,  n.,  barn.     A.  S.  bern. 

Beeth,  v.,  imper.  plu.,  be.    See  Bernard,  Bernardus  Gordonius: 

Ben.  a     contemporary     of    Chaucer 

Begge,  v.,  beg.  and   professor  of  medicine  at 

Begger,  n.,  beggar.  Montpellier. 

Beggestere,   n.,   female  beggar,  Berwik,    Berwick:    a    town    in 

beggar.    — {A.  S.  suffix)  estre.        Northumberland  on  the  Tweed. 

Begyle,  v.,  see  Bigyle.  Berye,  n.,  berry.    A. ^S.  berie. 

Beheste,  n.,  promise,  command.  Bestialitee,  n.,  bestiality,  animal 

A.  S.  behses  /.  condition.    F.  bestialite. 

Behette,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Be-  Besy,  adj.,  busy.    A.  S.  bysig. 

hote.  Besyed,  p.  p.,  busied.  A.  S. 
Behewe,  p.  p.,  hewn,  carved.  bysgian. 

Behote,  v..  promise.     A.  S.  be-  Bet,  adj.,  adv.,  compar.,  better. 

hatan.  A.  S.  bet.    See  Bettre. 


432  GLOSSARY 

Bete,  v.,  mend,  kindle.     A.  S.  Bireyned,   p.    p.,    rained   upon. 

betan.  A.  S.  be — rignan. 

Bete,  v.,  beat.     A.  S.  beatan.  Bireve,  v.,  bereave,  rob.     A.  S. 

Bettre,    adj.,     compar.,     better.  bereafian. 

A.  S.  betera.     See  Bet.  Birthe,  n.,  birth. 

Bever,  n.,  beaver.     A.  S.  beofor.  Biseche,  v.,  beseech.    A.  S.  be— 

Bewrye,  v.     See  Biwreye.  secan. 

Beye,  ?>.,  buy.     A.  S.  bycgan.  Bisege,  v.,  besiege. 

Bibled,  p.  p.,  bloodied.  Biseke,  v.,  see  Biseche. 

Biblis,    Byblis:     changed    to    a  Bisette,  v.,  bestow,  employ.    A. 

fountain  on  being  repulsed  in  S.  besettan. 

love.    See    Ovid,    Metam.,   ix,  Biseye,   p.   p.,   beseen,    decked, 

tt.  452.  clad.     A.  S.  beseon.     Goodly 

Bicched,  adj.,   cursed.     Bicched  beseyn,    fair    to    see.      Wei 

bones,  dice.  beseyn,  good  looking. 

Bidde,  v.,  pray;   (confused  with  Bishet,  p.  p.,  shut  up.      A.  S. 

Bede)  command.  A.S.biddan..  be — scyttan. 

Bidaffed,  p.  p.,  befooled.  Bisily,  adv.,  busily. 

Bifalle,y.,  befall.    A.S.  befeallan.  Bisinesse,  n.,  business,  activity. 

Biforen,    prep.,    before.     A.   S.  Bismotered,    p.    p.,    besmutted, 

beforan.  dirtied. 

Biforen,  adv.,  in  the  front  part.  Bisoghte,    Bisoughte,    v.,    pret., 

A.  S.  beforan.  see  Biseche. 

Biginne,  v.,   begin.     A.  S.  be-  Bisy,  adj.,  see  Besy. 

ginnan.  Bisyde,   Bisydes,   prep.,   beside. 

Bigpn,  p.  p.,  situated,  beset,  at-  See  Syde. 

tired.     A.  S.  bigan.  Bit,    v.,    third   pers.    sing.,    pres. 

Bigyle,  v.,  beguile,  deceive.    Be — •  indie.,  see  Bede,  Bidde. 

O.  F.  guiler.  Bitake,    v.,    commend,    entrust. 

Bihalve,  n.,  behalf.    A.  S.  be—  A.  S.  be — tacan. 

healf.  Bithinke,    v.,    bethink,    imagine, 

Biheste,  n.,  see  Beheste.  consider.      A.  S.   be}>encan. 

Bihete,  v.,  promise.    See  Behote.  Bitraise,  v.,  betray.     Be— 0.  F. 

Bihighte,  v.,  pret.,  see  Behote.  trair. 

Bihinde,     adv.,     prep.,     behind.  Bitrende,  v.,  encircle.      Bitrent, 

A.  S.  behindan.  third  pers.,  sing.,  pres.  indie., 

Biholde,  v.,  behold.     A.  S.  be-  encircles.    A.  S.  be — trendan. 

healdan.  Bitwixen,  prep.,  between. 

Bihote,  v.,  see  Behote.  Bityde,  v.,  happen.     A.  S.  be — • 

Bihovely,  adj.,  helpful,  needful.  tidan. 

3i-iape,  v.,  fool,  trick.  Biwaile,  v.,  bewail. 

Biknowe,  v.,  acknowledge,  con-  Biwared,  p.  p.,   expended,   laid 

fess.     A.  S.  becnawan.  out  (as  on  wares). 

Bilde,  v.,  build.    A.  S.  byldan.  Biwopen,  p.  p.,  bathed  in  tears. 

Bilder,  n.  as  adj.,  builder.  From Biwepe.    A.S.  bewepan. 

Bile,  n.,  bill.     A.  S.  bile.  Biwreye,  v.,  reveal.     A.  S.  be— 

Bille,  n.,   bill,  petition.     A.  F.  wregan. 

Biloved,  p.  p.,  beloved.     A.  S.  Blak,  adj.,  black.      A.  S.  blaec. 

be — lufian.  Blakebaried,  a,  a-blackberrying. 

Binne,    n.,    bin,    hutch,    chest.  Blankmanger,  n.,  minced  capon 

^4.  S.  binn /.  with    rice,    milk,    sugar,    and 

Biquethe,  v.,  bequeath.     A.  S.  almonds:  named  from  its  white 

becwe<5an.  color.     O.   F.  blanc-manger. 


GLOSSARY  433 

Blase,  n.,  blaze.    A.  S.  blaese.  and  among  the  French  trans- 

Blase,  v.,  blow.     O.   N.  blasa.  lations  was  one  (which  Chaucer 

Blaspheme ur,    n.,    blasphemer.  used)  by  Jean  de  Meun. 

Blaste,  v.,  blow.  Boght,   p.  p.;  Boghte,  v.t  pret.; 

Blaunche     fevere,     fever     that  see  Bye. 

turns  men  white:  said  jocosely  Boille,  v.,  boil.     0.  F.  boillir 

because  love  makes  its  victims  Boistes,  n.,  plu.,  boxes.     0.  F. 

pale.     See  Fevere.  boiste. 

Blede,  v.,  bleed.     A.  S.  bledan.  Boistously,  adv.,  loudly,  boister- 

Blende,  v.,  blind.     Blent,   third  ously. 

pers.  sing.,  pres.  indie.,  blinds  Bokeler,    n.,    buckler:    a    small 

A.  S.  blendan.  round    shield    usually    carried 

Bleve,   v.,   remain.      A.   S.   be-  by  a  handle  at  the  back.    0.  F. 

laefan.  bocler. 

Blew,  adj.,  blue.     F.  bleu.  Boket,  n.,  bucket. 

Bleynte,  v.,  pret.  blenched,  turned  Bolde,    v.,    grow    bold.      A.    S. 

aside.     From  Blenche.     A.  S.  bealdian. 

blencan.  Bole,   n.,   bull.     Bole,   Taurus: 

Blis,  n.,  see  Blisse.  the  zodiacal  sign. 

Blisful,  adj.,   happy,  blessed.  Boloigne,  Boulogne  or  Bologna. 

Blisse,  n.,  bliss,  felicity.     A.  S.  Bonde,    p.    p.,    bound.      From 

blis/.  Binde.     A.  &  bindan. 

Blisse,  v.,  bless.    A.  S.  bletsian.  Bonde,    n.,    bondman.      A.    S. 

Bio,  adj.,  smoke-colored.    O.  N.  bonda. 

blar.  Bone,  n.,  boon,  prayer.     O.   N. 

Blody,adj.,  bloody.    ^.£.blodig.  bon. 

Blosiry,  adj.,  blossoming,  full  of  Boon,  n.,  bone.     A.  S.  ban. 

blossoms.  Boor,  n.,  boar.     A.  S.  bar. 

Blythe,  adj.,  blithe,  glad.    A.  S.  Boost,  n.,  boast.     A.  F.  bost. 

blij?e.  Boot,  n.,  boat.     A.  S.  bat. 

Blyve,  adv.,  quickly,  soon.  Boras,  n.,  borax.     F.  borras. 

Bobance,  n.,  presumption,  boast.  Bord,  n.,   table,  board.     A.  S. 

O,  F.  Had  the  bord  bigonne,    had 

Bocher,    n.,     butcher.      0.    F.  led  the  feast,  sat  at  the  head 

bochier.  of  the  table. 

Bode,     n.,     foreboding,     omen.  Bore,  n.,  bore,  hole.    O.  N.  bora. 

A.  S.  bod.  Bore,  p.  p.,  born.     See  Bere. 

Boece,  Boethius:  an  early  scho-  Borne,  v.,  burnish,  smooth.    0.  F. 

lastic,   c.   480-524  A.  D.,  Ro-  burnir.    See  Burne. 

man    consul,    author    of   theo-  Borowe,  Borwe,  n.,  pledge.     A. 

logical    treatises,    treatises    on  S.  borh. 

learning    and    music,    and    of  Bote,    n.,    help,    remedy,    good. 

the  famous   De   Consolatione  A.  S.  bot  /. 

Philosophise,  put   to    death  on  Botelees,  adj.,  without  remedy. 

a  false  charge  of  treason  in  the  Boteler,  n.,  butler.     0.  F.  bou- 

reign   of    Theodoric   the   Goth.  teillier. 

The  De  Consolatione  was  one  Boterflye,  n.,  butterfly.     A.  S. 

of  the  most  popular  books  of  the  buter-flege. 

Middle  Ages  and  even  of  later  Botes,    n.,    plu.,    boots.      0.    F. 

times;   it    was    translated   into  bote. 

English    by    Chaucer    and    by  Bothe,  adj.,  pron.,  both.     0.  N. 

several  others,  including    King  ba]?ir. 

Alfred    and   Queen    Elizabeth,  Bother,    adj.,    pron.,    gen.    plu.t 


434  GLOSSARY 

of  both.    0.  N.  baj>ir.    Your  Breste,  v.,  burst.    A.  S.  berstan. 

bother,  of  you  both.  Brest-plat,  n.,  breast-plate.     A. 

Botme,  n.,  bottom.    A.  S.  botm.  S.  breost— 0.  F.  plate. 

Botmelees,  adj.,  bottomless,  hoi-  Bret,  Briton. 

low,  unreal.  Bretful,    adj.,    brimful.      A.   S. 

Bouk,  n.,  body,  trunk.     A.  S.  brerd— ful. 

buc.  Bretherhed,  n.,  brotherhood,  re- 

Boundes,  n.,  plu.,  bounds.    0.  F.  ligious  order. 

bonde.  Breyde,  v.,  start,  awake,  draw. 

Bountee,  n.,  goodness,  kindness.  A.  S.  bregdan. 

0.  F.  bonte.  Brid,  n.,  bird.     A.  S.  bridd. 

Bountevous,  adj.,  bounteous.  Brinne,  v.,  see  Brenne. 

BOUT,  n.,   bed-chamber,   bower.  Britayne,  Brittany. 

A.  S.  bur.  Erode,  adv.,  broadly. 

Bourde,  v.,  jest.    0.  F.  bourder.  Broght,   p.   p.,   brought.     From 

Bowe,  n.,  bow.     A.  S.  boga.  Bringe.    A.  S.  bringan. 

Bowes,  n.,  plu.,  boughs.     A.  S.  Bromes,   n.,   plu.,   brooms,    the 

boh.  broom    (bushes  so-called).     A. 

Bracer,  n.,  guard  for  the  arm.  S.  brom. 

O.  F.  brasseure.  Brond,  n.,  brand,  torch.     A.  S. 

Bradwardyn,  Bradwardine:  proc-  Brooch,  n.,  brooch.   O.  F.  broche. 

tor    at    Oxford   in    1325,   later  Brood,  adj.,  broad,  thick,  large. 

Chancellor,  Archbishop  of  Can-  A.  S.  brad. 

terbury   just   before    his  death  Broste,  v.,  pret.;  Brosten,  p.  p., 

in  1349,  author  of  a  theological  burst.     See  Breste. 

treatise  De  Causa  Dei.  Brotel,  adj.,  brittle. 

Brak,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Breke.  Brotelnesse,  n.,  frailty. 

Braste,  v.,  pret.,  see  Breste.  Brouke,  v.,   enjoy,   use.     A.  S. 

Braun,  n.,  brawn,  muscle.    0.  F.  brucan. 

braon.  Broun,  adj.,  brown.    A.  S.  brun. 

Braunche,    n.,    branch.      0.    F.  Browe,  n.,  brow,  eyebrow.    A.S. 

branche.  bru  /. 

Brayde,  v.,  see  Breyde.  Broyded,  p.  p.,  braided. 

Brede,  n.,  breadth.    A.S.fa&du.  A.  S.  bregdan.     See  Breyde. 

Brede,  n.,  roast.    A.  S.  brsede.  Brydel,  n.,  bridle.    A.  S.  bridel. 

Brede,  v.,  breed.    A.  S.  bredan.  Buk,  n.,  buck.     A.  S.  bucc. 

Breed,  n.,  bread.     A.  S.  bread.  Bukkes,  n.,  pi.,  bucks.     A.  S. 

Breem,  n.,  bream:  a  fish.    0.  F.  bucca. 

bresme.  Bukton:  either  Peter  de  Buketon, 

Breeth,  n.,  breath.     A.  S.  braej?.  the    King's   escheator  for    the 

Breke,  v.,  break.    A.  S.  brecan.  county  of  York  in  1397  (Tyr- 

Brekers,  n.,  plu.,  breakers.  whitt),  or  Robert  Bukton,  esquire 

Brekke,  n.,  break,  defect.  to  the  Queen  in  1301,  1393,  and 

Breme,  adj.,  fierce;  adv.,  fiercely.  1394    (Tatlock).     See  Expedi- 

Bren,  n.,  bran.     O.  F.  tions  by  Henry  Earl  of  Derby, 

Brenne,  v.,  burn.    O.  N.  brenna.  Camden  soc.,  1894,  p.  300. 

Brenningly,  adv.,  burningly,  ar-  Bulde,  v.,  see  Bilde. 

dently.  Bulle,  n.,  papal  bull.     L.  bulla. 

Brere,     n.,     brier,     underwood.  Bulte,  v.,  bolt,  sift.    O.  F.  buleter. 

A.  S.  brer.  Burdeux,  Bourdeaux. 

Brest,  n.,  breast.     A.  S.  breost.  Burdoun,  n.,  burden  of  a  song, 

Brest-boon,  n.,  breast-bone.     A.  bass  accompaniment.      0.  F. 

S.  breost — ban.  bourdon. 


GLOSSARY  435 

Burgeys,    n.,    burgess,     citizen.  Caliopee,  Calliope:  the  muse  of 

O.  F.  burgeis.  epic  poetry. 

Burned,   p.   p.,   burnished,   pol-  Calipsa,  Calypso. 

ished.      O.    F.    burnir.      See  Calistopee,  Calixte,  Callisto. 

Borne.  Calle,  n.,  caul:  net  used  to  con- 

Burnel,  Brunellus:  the  ass  thus  fine  women's  hair.     Maken  an 

nicknamed    in    the    Speculum  howve  above  a  calle,  make  a 

Stultorum  of   Nigellus   Wire-  hood  above  a  caul:  to  make 

ker   (fl.   the  latter  part  of  the  a  fool  of. 

twelfth  century}.    One  Gundulf,  Cam,  v.t  pret.  sing.,  came.    From 

according  to  the  story,  broke  the  Come.    A.  S.  cuman. 

leg   of  a   cock,  who  took  his  Camaille,  n.,  camel.   0.  F.  camel. 

revenge  by  neglecting   to   crow  Can,  v.,  pres.  indie.,  see  Conne. 

and  waken  Gundulf  in  time  to  Canace:  daughter  of  &olus,  who 

be  consecrated  for  his   father's  was  beloved  by  Poseidon,  and 

benefice.  who  committed  incest  with  her 

Burthe,  n.,  birth.  brother. 

Buskes,  n.,  plu.,  bushes.  Candace:  queen  of  India,  beloved 

But- if,  conj.,  unless.  of  Alexander,  according  to  me- 

Buxom,  adj.,  yielding,  obedient.  dieval  romance. 

Buxomly,  adv.,  obediently.  Candel,  n.,  candle.     A.  S. 

By,  adv.,  prep.,  as  regards,  with  Canel-boon,  n.,  collar-bone.     O. 

respect  to,  besides.     A.  S.  bi.  F.  canel — A.  S.  ban. 

Bycause,    adv.,    conj.,    because.  Cankedort,  n.,  state  of  suspense. 

Be — F.  cause.  Canon:   the  title  of    a   book  by 

Byde,  v.,  wait.     A.  S.  bidan.  Avicenna. 

Bye,   v.,   buy.      A.   S.   bycgan.  Cantel,  n.,  cantle,  portion.    O.  F. 

See  Beye.  Cape,  v.,  gape. 

By-iape,  v.,  see  Bi-iape.  Capoun,  n.,  capon.    A.  S.  capun. 

Byte,    v.,    bite,     cut.      A.    S.  Cappe,  m.,  cap.     A.  S.  caeppe. 

bitan.  Sette    hir    aller    cappe,    de- 

Bywreye,  v.,  see  Biwreye.  ceived  them  all,  made  fools  of 

them  all. 

Careyne,    n.,    corpse,     carrion. 

Caas,  n.,  plu.,  cases  of  law.    See  O.  F.  caroigne. 

Cas.  Carie,  v.,  carry.    0.  F.  carier. 

Cacche,  v.,  catch,  lay  hold   of.  Carl,  n.,  fellow,  rustic.     0.   N. 

0.  F.  cachier.  karl;  A.  S.  ceorl. 

Cadence,     n.,     rhythm,     (Skeat  Carole,  v.,  dance  around  singing. 

suggests)  stanzaic  form.     LL.  0.  F.  caroler. 

cadentia.  Carpe,  v.,  talk,  chatter. 

Cadme,  Cadmus.  Carrenar:   perhaps  the    Gulf   of 

Caitif,   adj.,    captive,   wretched,  Carnaro   or  Quarnaro   in    the 

miserable.  Adriatic  (Skeat);  or  the  Kara 

Caitif,  n.,  captive,  wretch.    0.  F.  Nor — black  lake — which  is  near 

Cake,  n.,  round  and  rather  flat  the    Lop    Nor — sand    lake   or 

loaf  of  bread.  Desert  of  Gobi,   and  therefore 

Cakelinge,  n.,  cackling.  the  "dry  sea" — in  Asia  (Lowes). 

Calculinge,   s.,   calculation.     F.  Cartage,  Carthage. 

calculer.  Carte,  n.,  cart,  chariot.     A.  S. 

Calendes,  n.,  plu.    See  Kalendes.  crset. 

Calidoine,  Calydon:  ancient  city  Cas,   n.,   chance,   accident,   cir- 

of  Greece.  cumstance.    O.  F. 


436  GLOSSARY 

Cas,    n.,    quiver    (for    arrows).  Chapitre,  n.,  chapter.    F. 

O.  F.  casse.  Chapman,  n.,  trader,  merchant. 
Cast,  n.,  occasion,  contrivance,        A.  S.  ceapman. 

plan.    O.  N.  kast.  Char,  n.,  chariot.    0.  F. 

Caste,     v.,     throw,     conjecture,  Charge,    n.,    load,    burden,   im- 

consider,  plan,  contrive.   O.  N.        portance,  responsibility.    0.  F. 

kasta.  Charitable,  adj.,  loving,  kind.    F. 

Castel,  n.,  castle.     A.  S.     The  Charitee,  n.,   charity,   love.     0. 

"longe     castel     with     walles        F.  carite. 

whyte"    puns    on    the    names  Charme,  n.,  charm.    F. 

Lancaster  and  Blanche.  Charmeresses,  n.,  plu.,  workers 
Castel-yate,  n.,  castle-gate.     A.        with  charms. 

S.  castel — geat.  Chast,  adj.,  chaste.     F.  chaste. 

Casuel,  adj.,  casual.    F.  Chasteyn,  n.,   chestnut.     O.  F. 
Casuelly,  adv.,  casually.  chastaigne. 

Cataloigne,  Catalonia  in  southern  Chaunce,    n.,    chance.      O.    F. 

France.  cheance. 

Catapuce,  n.,  caper  spurge:  the  Chaunge,    v.,    change.      0.    F. 

seeds  are  purgative.  changier. 

Catel, n.,  property,  wealth.   O.  F.  Chaungeable,    adj.',    changeable. 
Catoun,     Dionysius     Cato:     re-        F.  changeable. 

puled  author  of  the  Disticha  de  Chaunterie,  n.,  chantry:  an  en- 

Moribus  assigned  to  the  third        dowmenl  for  a  priest  to   sing 

or  fourth  century  A.   D.  and        masses  for  the  soul  of  the  giver 

famous  throughout  the  Middle        of  the  endowment,  or  of  some 

Ages.  one  designated  by  him.     0.  F. 

Caughte,  v.,  pret.,  caught,  con-        chanterie. 

ceived.    See  Cacche.  Cheef,  adj.,  chief.     O.  F.  chief. 

Caunterbury,  Canterbury.  Chek,  n.,  check  (at  chess).    0.  F. 
Causeles,    adj.,    without    cause.        eschec. 

Ceint,  n.,  cincture,  girdle.    0.  F.  Cheke,   n.,    cheek,    cheek-bone. 
Celle,  n.,  cell.     O.  F.  A.  S.  ceace. 

Centaure,   n.,    centaury:   a  me-  Chekker,  n.,  chess-board.    0.  F. 

dicinal  herb.  eschequier. 

Cercle,  n.,  circle.    F.  Chekmat,    n.,    checkmate.      F. 
Cercle,  v.,  encircle.    F.  cercler.  echec  et  mat. 

Cerial,    adj.,    cerrial:    belonging  Chep,  n.,  market,  price.     A.  S. 

to  a  species  of  oak.  ceap.  As  good  chep,  as  cheaply. 

Certes,  adv.,  certainly.     F.  Chepe,  dat .,  time  of  cheapness. 

Certeyn,  adj.,  certain;  adv.,  cer-  Chepe,  Cheapside  in  London. 

tainly.     F.  certain.  Chere,    n.,    face,    countenance, 
Ceruce,  n.,  white  lead:  used  as        cheer.     O.  F.  chiere. 

the  basis  for  a  cosmetic.  Cherisse,  v.,  see  Cheryce. 

Cesse,  v.,  cease.     F.  cesser.  Cherl,    n.,    churl,    boor,    fellow. 
Chace,  v.,  chase,  hunt,  pursue.        A.  S.  ceorl. 

O.  F.  chacier.  Cherubinnes,  n.,  gen.,  cherub's. 

Chamberere,   n.,    chambermaid,  Cheryce,    v.,     cherish.      O.    F. 

maidservant.  cherir. 

Chamberleyn,    n.,    chamberlain.  Ches,  n.,  chess.     O.  F.  esches. 

O.  F.  chamberlenc.  Chesse,  dat. 

Chambre,  n.,   chamber.     O.  F.  Chese,  v.,  choose.    A.  S.  ceosan. 

Champioun,   n.,    champion.     F.  Cheste,  n.,  chest.     A.  S.  cest /. 

champion.  Chevalrye,  n.,  see  Chivalrye. 


GLOSSARY  437 

Chevisaunce,      n.,      borrowing  Citherea,  of  the  island  of  Cythe- 

money,     dealing     for     profit.  ra:  Venus. 

O.  F.  chevisance.  Citheroun,  Cithaeron. 

Cheyne,  n.,  chain.     O.  F.  chaene.  Citole,  n.,  stringed   musical  in-, 

Chichevache:  the  lean  cow  that  strument.    O.  F. 

fed  on  patient  wives.  Citryn,  adj.,  citron-colored.     F. 

Chide,  p.,   chide,  rebuke,  scold.  citrin. 

A.  S.  cidan.     See  Chyde.  Cladde,    v.,    prct.,    clad.     From 

Chiknes,  n.,  plu.,  chickens.     A.  Clothe.     A.   S.    claolan.     See 

S.  cicen.  Cled. 

Child,    n..    child.      A.    S.    cild.  Clamben,  v.,  pret.  plu.,  see  Clomb. 

Chimeneye,     n.,     fireplace.     F.  Clamour,  n.,  clamor,  outcry.  O. /*'. 

cheminee.  Clappe,  v.,  clap,  chatter,  prattle. 

Chirche,  n.,  church.    A.  S.  cirice.  A.  S.  clappan. 

Chirche-dore,    n.,    church  door.  Clapping,  s.,   chatter,  idle  talk. 

A.  S.  cirice — duru.  A.  S.  clappan. 

Chirking,  n.,   creaking,   grating,  Clarioninge,  s.,  the  music  of  the 

shriek.  clarion. 

Chiron,  Chiron  the  centaur:  tutor  Clarioun,    n.,    clarion,    trumpet. 

of  Achilles.  O.  F.  clarion. 

Chiteringe,  s.,  chattering,  chirp-  Clarree,  n.,  clarified  wine,  mixed 

ing.  with    honey    and    spices    and 

Chivachye,  n.,  military  expedi-  strained  until  clear.  0.  F.claie. 

tion.     O.  F.  chevauchie.  Clatere,  v.,  clatter. 

Chivalrye,  n.,  chivalry,  knight-  Claudian,  Claudius   Claudianus: 

hood,    valor,    knightly   deeds.  author  of  De  Raptu   Proser- 

O.  F.  chevalerie.  pina3  (c.  400  A.  D.) 

Chogh,  n.,  chough,  crow.  Clause,     n.,     clause,     sentence, 

Chois,  n.,  choice.    O.  F.  agreement,  stipulation.     0.  F. 

Choppe,    v.,    strike    downwards,  Clawes,  n.,   plu.,  claws.     A.  S. 

knock.  clawu. 

Choys,  n.,  see  Chois.  Clayme,  v.,  claim.    O.  F.  clamer. 

Chyde,  v.,  chide,  complain.     A.  Cled,  p.  p.,  clad.    From  Clothe. 

S.  cidan.     See  Chide.  A.  S.  claSian.     See  Cladde. 

Cimerie,    Cimmerii:   a   mythical  Cledde,    v.,    pret.,    clad.      From 

people  described  by  Homer  as  Clothe.     A.   S.    claolan.     See 

dwelling  in  a  remote  realm  of  Cled. 

mist  and  gloom.  Cleer,  adj.,    clear,    fine,    bright. 

Cink,  cinque,  five.    0.  F.  chic.  O.  F.  cler. 

Cipioun,    Scipio    Africanus    the  Clefte,  v.,  pret.,  see  Cleve. 

younger:  see  Macrobie.  Clene,    adj.,    clean,    pure;    adv., 

Cipres,  n.,  cypress.     0.  F.  entirely,  wholly.    A.S.  cl&ne. 

Cipryde,     native      of      Cyprus:  Clennesse,    n.,    purity.      A.   S. 

Venus.  clffinness  /. 

Circes,  Circe.  Cleo,  Clio:  the  muse  of  history. 

Circumscryve,    v.,    bound,     en-  Cleopatre,  Cleopatra. 

close.    P.  circonscrire.  Clepe,    v.,    call,    name.      A.   S. 

Circumstaunces,    n.,    plu.,    cir-  clipian,  cleopian. 

cumstances.      O.    F.    circum-  Clere,  adv.,  clearly. 

stance.  Clere,  v.,  grow  clear,  grow  bright. 

Citee,  n.,  city.     O.  F.  cite.  Clerer,  adj.,  compar.,  see  Cleer. 

Citezein,  n.,  citizen.     0.  F.  ci-  Clergeon,  n.,  little  clerk,  little 

team.  scholar.     O.  F. 


438 


GLOSSARY 


Clerk,  n.,  clerk,  student,  scholar. 

A.  S.  clerc;  O.  F.  clerc. 
Cleve,  v.,   adhere  to,   cling  to. 

A.  S.  cleofian. 
Cleve,    ».,     cleave,     cut,    split. 

A.  S.  cleofan. 
Clew,    v.,    pret.    sing.,    rubbed, 

clawed.      From  Clawe.  A.  S. 

clawan. 
Clippe,  v.,  embrace.     A.  S.  clyp- 

pan. 

Clippe,  v.,  cut,  clip.   0.  N.  klippa. 
Cloisterer,    n.,    resident    in    a 

cloister. 
Cloisterlees,     adj.,     cloisterless, 

outside  of  a  cloister. 
Cloistre,  n.,  cloister.     O.  F. 
Cloke,  n.,  cloak.     O.  F.  cloche. 
Clokke,  n.,  clock.    0.  F.  cloque. 
Clomb,  v.,  pret.  sing.;  Clomben, 

v.,  pret.  plu.;  Clomben,  p.  p.; 

climbed.     From    Climbe.     A. 

S.  climban. 
Cloos,  adj.,  close,  hidden,  secret; 

adv.,  secretly.     0.  F.  clos. 
Clooth-making,    s.,    making    of 

cloth. 

Closet,  n.,  small  room.    O.  F. 
Clothered,  p.  p.,  clotted,  coagu- 
lated. 

Cloude,  n.,  cloud.     A.  S.  chid. 
Clout,  n.,  piece  of  cloth.     A.  S. 

clut. 

Clowes,  n.,  plu.,  see  Clawes. 
Cod,  n.,  bag,  belly.     A.  S.  codd. 
Cofre,  n.,   coffer,    chest,    coffin. 

0.  F. 

Coghe,  v.,  cough. 
Cok,  n.,  cock.    A.  S.  coc. 
Cokes,  n.,   plu.,   cooks.     A.  S. 

coc. 
Cokewold,  n.,   cuckold.     0.   F. 

coucuol,  cucuaut. 
Cokkow,  n.,  cuckoo. 
Col,  n.,  coal.    A.  S.  col. 
Cold,  adj.,  cold,  baneful.    A.  S. 

ceald. 
Colde,   v.,    grow    cold.      A.   S. 

cealdian. 

Coler,  n.,  collar.     0.  F.  colier. 
Col  era,  n.,  choler:  one  of  the  four 

"humors"  of  the  body  according 

to    the    old    physiology.      The 


other  three  were  blood,  phlegm, 
and  black  bile  or  melancholy. 
The  relative  proportions  of  these 
fluids  in  the  body  were  supposed 
to  determine  a  person's  health 
and  disposition.  L.  cholera. 

Colere,  n.,  choler.  F.  colere. 
See  Colera. 

Colerik,  adj.,  choleric.  L.  choleri- 
cus.  See  Colera. 

Col-fox,  n.,  coal  fox,  black  fox. 
Col— A.  S.  fox. 

Collacion,  n.,  comparison,  con- 
ference. 0.  F. 

Coloigne,  Cologne. 

Colour,  n.,  color,  rhetorical  or- 
nament. 0.  F. 

Colpons,  n.,  plu.,  shreds, 
bundles. 

Com,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  came.  From 
Come.  A.  S.  cuman. 

Comaunde,  v.,  command.  0.  F. 
comander. 

Comaundement,  n.,  command- 
ment, command,  order.  0.  F. 
comandement. 

Comende,  v.,  commend.  L.  com- 
mendare. 

Comlily,  adv.,  in  a  comely  way. 

Comlinesse,  n.,  comeliness. 

Commaundement,  n.,  see  Com- 
aundement. 

Commissioun,  n.,  commission. 
F. 

Commune,  adj.,  general,  com- 
mon. 0.  F.  comun. 

Commune,  n.,  commons. 

Compaignable,  adj.,  companion- 
able. O.  F. 

Compaignye,  Companye,  n.,  com- 
pany. O.  F.  compaignie. 

Comparisoun,  n.,  comparison. 
F.  comparaison. 

Compas,  n.,  compass,  circuit, 
plan,  contriving.  O.  F. 

Compasse,  v.,  contrive.  F.  corn- 
passer. 

Compassioun,  n.,  compassion. 
F.  compassion. 

Compeer,  n.,  gossip,  close  friend. 
0.  F.  compair. 

Complexioun,  n.,  complexion, 
temperament  of  the  body  (see 


GLOSSARY  439 

Colera),    make-up,    character-  Constance,    n.,    constancy.      F. 

istics.     O.  F.  complexion.  Constantyn,  ConstantiusAfer:  an 

Compleyne,    v.,    complain.      F.  eleventh  century  monk,  one  of 

complaindre.  the  founders  of  the  school  of 

Compleynte,   n.,    complaint,    la-  Salerno. 

ment.     O.  F.  complainte.  Constellacioun,  n.,  constellation 

Composicioun,     n.,     agreement.  cluster  of  stars.     O.  F.  con- 

O.  F.  stellacion. 

Compoune,    v.,    compose,    form.  Constreyne,    v.,    constrain,    re- 

L.  componere.  strain,  comprise.     0.  F.  con- 

Comprende,  v.,  comprehend.    F.  streindre. 

comprendre.  Constreynte,  n.,  constraint,  dis- 

Comune,  adj.,  n.,  see  Commune.  tress.     0.  F.  constrainte. 

Comunly,  adv.,  commonly.  Contek,  n.,  strife,  contest.    O.  F. 

Conceit,  n.,  conception,  thought,  contec. 

notion.  Contemplacioun,  n.,  contempla- 

Conclusioun,  n.,  decision,  judg-  tion.     F.  contemplation. 

ment,  result,  end.  F.  conclu-  Contenaunce,     n.,     appearance, 

sion.  demeanour.    0.  F.  contenance. 

Concubyn,  n.,   concubine.  Contene,   v.,   contain.     F.   con- 

Condicioun,  n.,  condition,  state.  tenir. 

O.  F.  condicion.  Continuacioun,  n.,  continuance. 

Conferme,    v.,    confirm,    decree.  F.  continuation. 

O.  F.  confermer.  Contraire,    adj.,    contrary,    ad- 

Confessioun,  n.,  confession.     F.  verse.     O.  F. 

confession.  Contrarie,  n.,  contrary,  opponent. 

Confiture,  n.,   composition.  0.  F.  contraire, 

Confort,   n.,    comfort,    pleasure.  Contrarie,  v.,    oppose,    go    con- 

0.  F.  trary  to.    0.  F.  contrarier. 

Conforte,  v.,  comfort,  strengthen,  Contree,  n.,  country,  fatherland. 

support.     O.   F.   conforter.  0.  F. 

Confus,     adj.,     confused,     con-  Contrefete,  v.,   see  Countrefete. 

founded.  Convers,  n.,  opposite,  that  which 

Congeled,     p.     p.,     congealed,  is  turned  about.     In  convers 

frozen.    O.  F.  congeler.  leting,  leaving  behind,  on  the 

Congregacioun,     n.,     congrega-  other  side. 

tion,  assemblage.     F.  congre-  Conveye,  v.,  convey,  introduce. 

gation.  O.  F.  conveier. 

Conne,  v.,  know,  be  able,  can.  Convoye,  v.,  see  Conveye. 

A.  S.  cunnan.    Conne  a  thank,  Cop,  n.,  top,  summit.    A.  S.  cop. 

owe  thanks.  Cope,  n.,   cope,   cloak.      L.    L. 

Conning,     n.,     cunning,      skill,  capa. 

knowledge.  Coper,  n.,  copper. 

Conningly,  adv.,  skillfully.  Coppe,  n.,  cup.    A.  S.  cuppe. 

Conquerour,  n.,  conqueror.     O.  Corage,    n.,    heart,    spirit,    dis- 

F.  conquereor.  position.    O.  F. 

Conscience,    n.,     feeling,     pity,  Corageous,     adj.,     bold,     cour- 

sympathy.    O.  F.  ageous.     0.  F.  corajus. 

Conseil,  n.,  secret  counsel,  secret,  Corbet,  n.,  corbel:  a  projection 

counsellor.     O.  F.  from  the  face  of  a  wall  to  afford 

Conservatif,  adj.,  preserving.    F.  support   to   a   structure   above. 

Conserve,   v.,   preserve.     0.   F.  0.  F. 

conserver.  Corde,  n.,  cord.    0.  F, 


440  GLOSSARY 

Corde,  v.,   accord,   agree.      See  Countour,     n.,     counting-board. 

Accorde.  O.  F.  contouer.  . 

Cordial,   n.,    cordial,    something  Countrefete,  v.,  counterfeit,  imi- 

that  cheers  the  heart.  tate.    O.  F.  contrefaire  (p.  p., 

Corecte,  v.,  correct.  contrefait). 

Cormeraunt,  n.,  cormorant.     O.  Countrepeise,    v.,    counterpoise, 

F.  cormorant.  render  equivalent.    O.  F.  con- 

Corn,  n.,  corn,  grain.     A.  S.  trepeser. 

Cornemuse,  n.,  bagpipe.  Countretaille,  n.,  correspondence, 
Corny,  adj.,  strong  of  the  corn        counter-stroke.    O.  F.  centre— - 

or  malt.  taille.    At  the  countretaille,  in 

Corone,     Coroune,     n.,     crown,        correspondence  (of  sound),  in 

garland.    O.  F.  corone.  reply. 

Corps,  n.,   corpse.     O.  F.     See  Cours,  n.,  course.    O.  F. 

COTS.  Courtepy,  n.,  short  coat  or  cloak 
Comimpable,    adj.,    corruptible.        of  coarse  cloth. 

0.  F.  corrompable.  Couthe,  v.,   pret.,   see   Conne. 

Comipcioun,  n.,  destroyer,  cor-  Coveityse,  n.,  covetousness.     O. 

ruption.    0.  F.  corruption.  F.  coveitise. 

Cors,  n.,  body,   corpse.     0.  F.  Covenable,  adj.,  proper,  fitting. 

See  Corps.  O.  F. 

Corse,  ».,  curse.     A.  S.  cursian.  Covenaunt,  n.,  covenant,  agree- 
Corseynt,  n.,  saint  (literally  holy        ment.    O.  F.  covenant. 

body),    shrine.     O.    F.    cors  Covent,  n.,  convent,  conventual 

saint.  body.     O.  F. 

Corven,  p.  p.,  see  Kerve.  Coverchief,  n.,  kerchief  worn  on 
Cosin,   Cosyn,   n.,    cousin.      As        the  head.     O.  F.  cuevrechief. 

adj.,    akin    to,     suitable    to.  Covercle,  n.,  cover,  lid.    O.  F. 

O.  F.  cosin.  Covyne,  n.,   deceitfulness,   plot. 
Costage,  n.,  cost,  expense.    O.  F.        O.  F.  covine. 

Coste,  n.,  coast.     O.  F.  Cowardye,  n.,  cowardice.    0.  F. 
Cote,  n.,  cot,  hut;  so  dungeon.        couardie. 

A.  S.  cot  /.  Cowardyse,   n.,    cowardice.     F. 
Cote,  n.,  coat,  jacket.     0.  F.  couardise. 

Cote-armure,   n.,    coat   showing  Coy,  adj.,  quiet.     O.  F.  coi. 

the  heraldic  arms,  coat  of  arms.  Coyn,  n.,  coin.    0.  F.  coin. 

O.  F.  cote  a  armure.  Cracching,  s.,  scratching. 

Couche,  v.  lay  down,  place,  set.  Cradel,  n.,  cradle.     A.  S. 

O.  F.  couchier.  Craft,  n.,  cunning,  trade,  secret. 
Coude,  v.,  pret.,  see  Conne.  A.  S.  craeft. 

Counseil,  Counseyl,  n.,  see  Con-  Craftily,  adv.,  artfully,  skillfully. 

seil.  Crafty,  adj.,  skillful,  clever.  A.  S. 
Counseyle,  v.,  counsel.      F.  con-        craeftig. 

seiller.  Crampe,  n.,  cramp.    F. 

Counte,    v.,     account.      0.    F.  Cran,  n.,  crane.     A.  S.  cran. 

conter.  Crave,  v.,  beg,  ask.    A.£.crafian. 

Countenance,     n.,     see     Conte-  Creat,  p.p.,  created.    L.  creatus. 

naunce.  Creatour,  n.,  creator.    L.  creator. 

Countesse,     n.,     countess.       F.  Crede,  n.,  creed,  belief.     A.  S. 

comtesse.  creda. 

Countour,      n.,      arithmetician;  Creep,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Crepe. 

(perhaps)  auditor.    0.  F.  con-  Crepe,  v.,  creep.     A.  S.  creopan. 

teor.  Crepul,  n.,  cripple.    A.  S.  crypel. 


GLOSSARY  441 

Cresus,  Croesus.  Cursednesse,     n.,      cursedness, 

Crevace,  n.,  crevice,  crack.    0.  F.  wickedness. 

Crips,  adj.,  crisp,  curly.     A.  S.  Curteis,  adj.,  courteous.     0.  F. 

crisp.  Curteisye,  n.,   courtesy.     O.  F. 

Crisippus,  Chrysippus:  the  name  curteisie. 

of  a  Greek  philosopher  mentioned  Curteyn,     Curtin,     n.,     curtain. 

in    Jerome's    treatise    against  O.  F.  curtine. 

Jovinian.  Cut,  n.,  lot. 

Crist,  Christ.  Cypris,  Venus. 
Cristal,  adj.,  crystal.     F. 
Cristemasse,  Christmas. 

Cristofre,  Saint  Christopher,  (on  Daggere,    n.,    dagger.     O.    F. 

a  brooch}.  dague. 

Croce,  n.,  crutch,  staff.     0.  F.  Dale,  n.,  dale,  valley.    A.  S.  dael. 

Croked,  adj.,  crooked.  Daliaunce,  n.,  dalliance,  gossip, 

Crokke,  n.,  crock,   earthenware  playful  demeanour. 

pot.    A.  S.  crocca.  Damascien,    Johannes    Damas- 

Cronique,  n.,   chronicle.     0.  F.  cenus:  an  Arabian  physician, 

Crop,  n.,  top,  sprout,  new  twig.  probably  of  the  ninth  century. 

A.  S.  crop.  Damoysele,  n.,  damsel.     O.  F. 
Cropen,  p.  p.,  see  Crepe.  damoisele. 
Cros,  n.,  cross.    A.  S.  Dampnable,  adj.,  damnable.    O. 
Croude,  v.,  push.    A.  S.  crudan.  F.  damnable. 
Croune,  n.,  see  Coroune.  Dampnacioim,     n.,     damnation, 
Crouned,  p.  p.,  crowned.    0.  F.  condemnation.      O.    F.    dam- 
coroner,  nation. 

Crowe,  n.,  crow.     A.  S.  crawe.  Dampne,   v.,    condemn.     O.   F. 

Croys,  n.,  cross.    O.  F.  crois.  dampner. 

Cruelliche,  adv.,  cruelly.  Dan,  n.,  lord,  sir  (a  title  of  res- 

Crueltee,    n.,    cruelty.      O.    F.  pect).   O.  F.  dan  (L.  dominus). 

cruelte.  Dane,  Daphne. 

Crul,  adj.,  curly.  Dar,    v.,    dare.      From    Durre. 

Crydestow,     v.,     pron.,     second  A.  S.  durran. 

pers.  sing.,  pres.  indie.,  didst  Dares,    Dares    Phrygius:    sup- 

thou  cry  out.    From  Crye.    F.  posed  author  of  a  Greek  history 

crier.  of  the  destruction  of  Troy,  the 

Cryke,  n.,  creek.     0.  F.  crique.  original  form  of  the   De   Ex- 

Cubyte,  n.,  cubit.     L.  cubitus.  cidio  Trojse  Historia.     Dares 

Cukkow,  n.,  see  Cokkow.  was    supposed    to    have    lived 

Cunne,  v.,  see  Conne.  before    Homer.      The   De  Ex- 

Cupido,  Cupid.  cidio,   in   Latin,   is  a  clumsy 

Curat,    n.,   parish  priest,  vicar.  and  meager  narrative,  probably 

L.  L.  curatus.  of  the  fifth  century  A.  D. 

Cure,   n.,    cure,    remedy,    heed,  Darreyne,    v.,    vindicate    one's 

care,  endeavour.    0.  F.  right    to,    decide  one's   claim 

Curiositee,  n.,  curiosity.     0.  F.  to.    0.  F.  deraisnier. 

curiosite.  Darte,  n.,  dart.     O.  F.  dart. 

Curious,  adj.,  careful,  attentive,  Daswed,  p.  p.,  dazed,  confused. 

skillfully  made,  ornate.    O.  F.  Cf.  O.  F.  daser;  O.  N.  dasa. 

curios.  Daun,  see  Dan. 

Currours,  n.,   couriers,  runners.  Daunce,  n.,  dance.     0.  F.  dance. 

Cf.  0.  F.  courier.  Daunce,  v.,  dance.    O.  F.  dancer. 

Curs,  n.,  curse.     A.  S.  Daunger,  n.,  disdain,  offishness, 


442  GLOSSARY 

imperiousness.    0.  F.  dangier.  Greek  physician  of  the  second 

In  daunger,  in  jurisdiction,  in  century  A.  D. 

control.  Del,  n.,  see  Deel. 

Daungerous.     adj.,     forbidding,  Dele,  v.,  to  have  dealings  with, 

grudging.  argue.    A.  S.  dselan. 

Daunse,  v.,  see  Daunce.  Deliberacioun,   n.,    deliberation. 

Daunte,  v.,  daunt,  tame,  subdue.  L.  deliberatio. 

O.  F.  danter.  Delibere,  v.,  deliberate,  consider. 

Dawe,  v.,  dawn.    A.S.  dagian.  L.  deliberate. 

Dayerye,  n.,  dairy.     A.  S.  dsege  Delicacye,  Delicasye,  n.,  amuse- 

— F.  erie.  ment,  wantonness. 

Dayesye,     n.,     daisy.       A.    S.  Delicat,    adj.,    delicate,    tender, 

daeges — cage.  dainty.     L.  delicatus. 
Debaat,  n.,  strife.    0.  F.  debat.  Delitable,  adj.,  delightful,  pleas- 
Debate,    v.,    fight,    quarrel.      0.  ing.     O.  F. 

F.  debatre.  Deliver,  adj.,  quick,  active.     0. 

Debonaire,  adj.,  gracious,  cour-  F.  delivre. 

teous,  calm,  gentle.    0.  F.  Deliverly,  adv.,  nimbly,  quickly. 

Debonairly,     adv.,     debonairly,  Delphos,  Delphi. 

gently,  graciously.  Delphyn,    Delphinus:    the   name 

Debonairte,  n.,  gentleness,  gra-  of  a  constellation. 

ciousness.    O.  F.  debonairete.  Delve,  v.,  dig.     A.  S.  delfan. 

Declame,    v.,    declaim,    discuss.  Delyces,  n.,  plu.,  delights,  pleas- 

L.  declamare.  ures.    O.  F.  delice. 

Dedalus,  Daedalus.  Delyt,  n.,   delight,   joy.     O.  F. 

Dede,    n.,    deed,    act.     A.    S.  delit. 

dsed/.  Delyte,  v.,  delight,  please.    O.  F. 

Deduyt,  n.,  pleasure.    F.  deduit.  deleitier. 

Deed,  adj.,  dead.     A.  S.  dead.  Demaunde,  n.,  question.    0.  F. 

Deedly,  adj.,  deathlike,  mortal.  demande. 

A.  S.  deadlic.  Deme,  v.,  deem,  judge,  decide, 

Deef,  adj.,  deaf.     A.  S.  deaf.  suppose.     A.  S.  deman. 

Deel,  n.,  part,  bit.     A.  S.  dsel.  Demeine,    v.,    manage.      O.    F. 

Deer,  n.,  animal.    A.  S.  deor.  demener. 

Dees,  n.,  plu.,  dice.     O.  F.  de.  Demonstracioun,  n.,  demonstra- 

Dees,  n.,  dais.    0.  F.  deis.  tion,    L.  demonstratio. 

Deeth,  n.,  death.     A.  S.  deaj>.  Demophon,  Demophoon. 

The  deeth,  death,  the  plague.  Depardieux,  on  the  part  of  God, 

Defaute,  n.,  fault,  want.    0.  F.  by  God's  help. 

On  a  defaute  y-falle,  had  a  Departe,  v.,  separate,  part.     F. 

check  (hunting).  departir. 

Defence,    n.,    defense,    interfer-  Departinge,   s.,   departure,    sep- 

ence,  hindrance,  concealment.  aration.     F.  departir. 

O.  F.  defense.  Depe,  adv.,  deeply.    A.  S.  deope. 

Defende,    v.,    defend,      forbid.  Depeynted,     p.     p.,     depicted, 

O.  F.  defendre.  painted.     O.  F.  depeindre. 

Defet,  p.  p.,  overcome,  exhausted.  Depper,  adv.,  corn-par.,  see  Depe. 

0.  F.  desfait.  Dere,   adj.,    dear;   adv.,   dearly. 

Defyne,  v.,  define,  depict.    O.  F.  A.  S.  depre. 

definer.  Dere,  v.,  injure,  harm.     A.  S. 

Degree,  n.,  rank,  step.     0.  F.  derian. 

degre.  Derk,  adj.,  dark.     A.  S.  deorc. 

Deiscorides,       Dioscorides:       a  Derkly,  adv.,  darkly,  obscurely. 


GLOSSARY 


443 


Derre,  adv.,  compar.,  see  Dere. 

Dertemouthe,  Dartmouth. 

Derth,  ?i.,  dearth. 

Descente,  n.,  descent.     F. 

Descerne,  v.,  discern.  F.  dis- 
cerner. 

Descripcioun,  n.,  description.  0. 
F.  description. 

Descryve,  v.,  describe.  O.  F.  des- 
crivre.  See  Discryve. 

Desdeyn,  n.,  disdain.  0.  F. 
desdein. 

Desert,  n.,  deserted  spot,  wilder- 
ness. F. 

Desespaired,  p.  p.,  in  despair. 
0.  F.  desesperer. 

Desespeir,   n.,    despair.     O.   F. 

Desesperaunce,  n.,  despair.  O. 
F.  desesperance. 

Desolat,  adj.,  desolate,  forsaken. 
L.  desolatus. 

Despeyred,  p.  p.,  sunk  in  de- 
spair. O.  F.  desperer.  See 
Dispeyre. 

Despitous,  adj.,  spiteful,  angry, 
scornful.  0.  F. 

Despitously,  adv.,  spitefully,  ma- 
liciously, cruelly. 

Desplaye,  v.,  display.  0.  F. 
despleier. 

Despone,  v.,  see  Dispone. 

Desporte,  v.,  rejoice,  amuse. 
0.  F.  desporter. 

Despyt,  n.,  malice,  spite.  O.  F. 
despit. 

Desseveraunce,  n.,  separation. 
0.  F.  dessevrance. 

Destinee,  n.,  destiny.     O.  F. 

Destourbe,  v.,  disturb,  prevent. 
0.  F.  destourber. 

Destresse,  n.,  distress.  0.  F. 
destrece. 

Destreyne,  v.,  distress,  con- 
strain, force.  0.  F.  des- 
treindre. 

Destroubled,  p.  p.,  disturbed, 
troubled.  O.  F.  destroubler. 

Destruccioun,  n.,  destruction. 
F.  destruction. 

Desyr,  n.,  desire.     F.  desir. 

Desyre,  v.,  desire.     F.  desirer. 

Dette,  n.,  debt.    0.  F. 

Dettelees,  adj.,  debtless. 


Devocioun,  n.,  devotion.  0.  F. 
devocion. 

Devoir,  n.,  duty.    O.  F. 

Devyn,  n.,  diviner,  soothsayer. 
0.  F.  devin. 

Devyne,  v.,  divine,  guess.  0.  F. 
deviner. 

Devys,  v.,  device,  contrivance, 
arrangement.  O.  F.  devis. 

Devyse,  v.,  describe,  tell,  plan. 
0.  F.  deviser. 

Dew,  n.,  dew.    A.  S.  deaw. 

Deyde,  v.,  pret.,  see  Deye. 

Deye,  n.,  dairy-woman.  0.  N. 
deigja. 

Deye,  v.,  die.  0.  N.  deyja. 
See  Dye. 

Deyed,  v.,  pret.,  see  Deye. 

Deyinge,  s.,  death.  0.  N. 
deyja. 

Deyne,  v.,  deign.    0.  F.  deignier. 

Deynous,  adj.,  disdainful,  scorn- 
ful. O.  F.  (des)deignos. 

Deyntee,  n.,  worth,  value,  pleas- 
ure. 0.  F.  deintie. 

Deyntee,  adj.,  dainty,  pleasant, 
rare. 

Deyntevous,  adj.,  dainty. 

Deys,  n.,  see  Dees. 

Diane,  Diana. 

Diapred,  p.  p.,  variegated,  di- 
versified with  figures.  O.  F. 
diasprer. 

Dich,  n.,  ditch. 

Diched,  p.  p.,  provided  with  a 
ditch  or  moat.  A.  S.  dician. 

Diete,  n.,  diet.     F.  diete. 

Diffame,  n.,  evil  name,  ill  report. 
0.  F. 

Diffame,  v.,  defame,  dishonor. 
0.  F.  diffamer. 

Diffyne,  v.,  see  Defyne. 

Digestyves,  n.,  plu.,  digestives. 
F.  digestif. 

Dighte,  v.,  prepare,  array,  serve. 
A.  S.  dihtan. 

Digne,  adj.,  worthy,  honorable, 
suitable,  proud.  0.  F. 

Digneliche,  adv.,  worthily,  fit- 
tingly, scornfully. 

Dignitee,  n.,  worth,  dignity. 
0.  F.  dignite. 

Diner,  n.,  dinner.    F. 


444 


GLOSSARY 


Dint,  n.,  stroke,  blow.  A.  S. 
dynt. 

Diocyse,  n.,  diocese.  0.  F. 
diocise. 

Dione:  a  female  Titan,  mother 
of  Venus  (Aphrodite). 

Disavaunce,  v.,  check,  defeat. 
0.  F.  desavancier. 

Disaventure,  n.,  misfortune.  0. 
F.  desaventure. 

Dischevele,  adj.,  see  Disshevele. 

Disclaundre,  v.,  reproach,  slander. 

Discomfiture,  n.,  defeat,  dis- 
comfiture. 0.  F.  desconfirure. 

Disconfort,  n.,  discomfort,  dis- 
couragement. O.  F.  descon- 
fort. 

Disconforte,  v.,  discourage.  0. 
F.  desconforter. 

Disconsolat,  adj.,  disconsolate. 
L.  disconsolatus. 

Discordaunt,  adj.,  discordant.  0. 
F.  descordant. 

Discrecioun,  n.,  discretion.  F. 
discretion. 

Discreve,  Discryve,  v.,  describe. 
0.  F.  descrivre.  See  Des- 
cryve. 

Discure,  v.,  discover,  reveal. 
0.  F.  descouvrir. 

Disdeyn,  n.,  see  Desdeyn. 

Disdeyne,  v.,  disdain.  0.  F. 
desdeignier. 

Disese,  n.,  discomfort,  grief,  dis- 
tress, disease.  0.  F.  desaise. 

Disese,  v.,  trouble,  distress,  in- 
commode. O.  F.  desaaisier. 

Disesperat,  adj.,  hopeless. 

Disfigurat,  adj.,  disguised. 

Disgyse,  v.,  disguise.  0.  F. 
desguiser. 

Disherited,  p.  p.,  disinherited. 
F.  desheriter. 

Disioynt,  n.,  failure,  peril.  0.  F. 
desjointe. 

Disobeysaunt,  adj.,  disobedient. 

Disordinaunce,  n.,  disorder,  vio- 
lation of  the  rules.  0.  F. 
desordenance. 

Disparage,  n.,  disparagement, 
disgrace.  0.  F.  desparage. 

Dispence,  n.,  expenditure,  ex- 
pense. O.  F.  despense. 


Dispeyre,  v.,  despair.  0.  F. 
desperer.  See  Despeyred. 

Dispitous,    adj.,    see   Despitous, 

Displesaunce,  n.,  displeasure, 
offense.  O.  F.  desplaisance. 

Displese,  v.,  displease.  O.  F. 
desplaisir. 

Dispoile,  v.,  despoil.  0.  F. 
despoillier. 

Dispone,  v.,  dispose,  order.  L. 
disponere;  0.  F.  disponer. 

Disport,  n.,  play,  sport.  O.  F. 
desport. 

Disporte,  v.,  see  Desporte. 

Disposicioun,  n.,  disposition,  dis- 
posal. 0.  F.  disposicion. 

Disputisoun,  n.,  disputation,  ar- 
gument. A.  F.  desputeison. 

Dispyt,  n.,  see  Despyt. 

Disshevele,  adj.,  with  hair  flow- 
ing down.  0.  F.  deschevele. 

Dissimulacioun,  n.,  dissimula- 
tion. F.  dissimulation. 

Dissimule,  v.,  dissimulate.  O.  F. 
dissimuler. 

Disteyne,  v.,  stain,  bedim.  0.  F. 
desteindre. 

Distourbe,  v.,  see  Destourbe. 

Distresse,   n.,   see  Destresse. 

Distreyne,  v.,   see  Destreyne. 

Divers,  adj..  diverse,  different. 
F. 

Diversitee,  n.,  diversity,  variety. 
F.  diversite. 

Divinistre,  n.,  divine,  theologian. 

Divisioun,  n.,  division,  distinc- 
tion. O.  F.  division. 

Divyn,  adj.,  divine.    O.  F.  divin. 

Divyne,  v.,  guess.    O.  F.  deviner. 

Divynis,  n.,  plu.,  see  Devyn. 

Do,  v.,  do,  execute;  cause  to  be. 
A.  S.  don.  Doon  make,  cause 
to  be  made. 

Doctour,  n.,  doctor,  teacher. 
O.  F.  doctur. 

Doctryne,  n.,  instruction.  F. 
doctrine. 

Dogge,  n.,  dog.     A.  S.  docga. 

Doghter,  n.,  daughter.  A.  S. 
dohtor.  Doghtren,  Doughtren, 
plu. 

Doke,  n.,  duck.     A.  S.  duce. 

Dokked,  p.  p.,  docked,  cut  short. 


GLOSSARY  445 

Dolven,  p.  p.,  buried.    See  Delve.  Dredeles,   adv.,   without  doubt, 

Domb,  adj.,  dumb.    A.  S.  dumb.        certainly. 

Domesday,  n.,  doom's  day.     A.  Dredful,   adj.,   fearful,    timid. 

S.  domes — daeg.  Dredfully,  adv.,  timidly. 

Dominacioun,      n.,      dominion,  Dreem,  n.,  dream. 

power.     L.  dominatio.  Dreinte,  v.,   pret.,  see  Drenche. 

Don,  v.,  see  Do.  Dreme,  v.,  dream. 

Don,  do — on,  put  on.    See  Do.  Drenche,    v.,     drown.       A.    S. 
Dong,  n.,  dung,  manure.     A.  S.        drencan. 

dung.  Drerinesse,  n.,  dreariness. 

Donge,  v.,  dung,  manure.  Drery,  adj.,  dreary,  sad.     A.  S. 
Dongeoun,   n.,   keep-tower.     F.        dreorig. 

donjon.  Dresse,  v.,  direct,  prepare.     0. 
Donne,  adj.,  plu.,  dun-coloured,        F.  drecier. 

dusky.     A.  S.  dunn.  Dreye,  adj.,  dry.     A.  S.  dryge. 

Doom,    n.,    judgment,    opinion,  Dreynt,  p.  p.;  Dreynte,  v.,  pret.; 

decision.    A.  S.  dom.  see  Drenche. 

Doon,  v.,  see  Do.  Drinke,  n.,  drink.    A.  S.  drinca. 

Dore,  n.,  door.    A.  S.  duru.  Drinkelees,  adj.,  without  drink. 

Dormant,  adj.,  see  Table.  Drogges,    n.,    plu.,    drugs.      F. 
Dorste,  v.,  pret.,  see  Dai.  drogue. 

Doseyn,  n.,  dozen.  0.  F.  doseine.  Droghte,    n.,    drought.      A.    S. 
Dossers,    n.,    plu.,    baskets    to        drugaS  /. 

carry    on    the    back.      0.    F.  Dronk,    v.,    pret.    sing.,    drank. 

dossier.  From  Drinke.    A.  S.  drincan. 

Doucet,  ad/.,  dulcet  (pipe),  sweet-  Dronkelewe,    adj.,    addicted    to 

sounding  (pipe}.    F.  drink,    drunken.      Dronken — • 

Doughter,  n.,  see  Doghter.  A.  S.  Isewe. 

Doumb,  adj.,  see  Domb.  Dronkenesse,   n.,    drunkenness. 

Doun,   n.,   down,   soft  feathers.  Droof,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Dryve. 

0.   N.  dunn.  Drope,  n.,  drop.    A.  S.  dropa. 

Doutaunce,     n.,     doubt,      per-  Droupe,  v.,  droop.    O.  N.  drupa. 

plexity.     0.  F.  doutance.  Drow,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  drew.    From 
Doute,  n.,   doubt,  fear.     0.  F.        Drawe.     A.  S.  dragan. 

Doute,  v.,   doubt,   fear.     O.   F.  Drugge,  v.,  drudge. 

douter.  Drye,  adj.,  see  Dreye. 

Doutelees,  adv.,  doubtless.  Drye,  v.,  endure,  suffer.     A.  S. 
Doutremere,  adj.,  from  beyond        dreogan. 

the  sea,  foreign,  imported.  Dryve,   v.,   drive,   hasten,   pass. 
Douve,  n.,  dove.     (A.  S.  dufe.)         A.  S.  drifan. 

Dowaire,    Dowere,    n.,    dower.  Duche,  German. 

0.  F.  douaire.  Duchesse,  n.,  duchess.     F. 

Dowve,  n.,  see  Douve.  Duetee,  n.,  duty,  debt.     A.  F. 
Drad,  p.  p.;  Dradde,  v.,  pret.;        duete. 

see  Drede.  Duk,  n.,  duke.     F.  due. 

Dragoun,    n.,    dragon.      0.    F.  Dul,  adj.,  dull,  sad,  stupid.     A. 

dragon.  S.  dol. 

Draughte,  n.,  draft,  drink.  Dulcarnon,   n.,    an    inexplicable 
Drecche,  v.,  be  tedious,  vex,  de-        dilemma.       Arabic     dhu     al- 
lay.    A.  S.  dreccan.  qarnain. 

Drede,  n.,  dread,  fear,  doubt.  Dulle,  v.,  feel  dull,  grow  tired. 

Drede,  v.,  dread,  fear.      A.  S.  Duracioun,   n.,   duration,    term. 

drsedan.  0.  F.  duration. 


446  GLOSSARY 

Dure,  v.,   endure,   last,  remain.  Eke,  adv.,  see  Eek. 

O.  F.  durer.  Ekko,  n.,  echo.     L.  echo. 

Durste  v.,  pret.,  see  Dar.  Eleanor:  perhaps  Helcanor  of  the 

Duske,  v.,  grow  dim.  thirteenth  century  prose  romance 

Dwelle,  v.,  remain,  tarry,  delay.  Cassidorus  (see  Tatlock,  Mod. 

A.  S.  dwellan.  Lang.  Notes,  xxxvi,  95  jff.) 

Dyamaunt,  n.,  diamond.     O.  F.  Elde,  n.,  old  age.    A.  S.  eldo. 

diamant.  Eleccioun,  n.,  choice,  election.  0. 

Dyane,  Diana.  F.  election. 

Dyde,  v,,  pret.,  see  Do  or  Dye.  Eles,  n.,  gen.  sing.,   eel's;  plu., 

Dye,  v.,  see  Deye.  eels.     A.  S.  ael. 

Dyke,  v.,  make  dikes  or  ditches.  Eleyne,  Helen. 

A.  S.  dician.     See  Diched.  Elicon,  Helicon. 

Dys,  n.,  plu.,  see  Dees.  Ellebor,  n.,  hellebore. 

Dytees,  n.,  plu.,  ditties.     0.  F.  Elles,  adv.,  else,  otherwise.    A.  S. 

ditie.  Elvish,    adj.,     elflike,    reserved, 

Dyverse,  v.,  vary.   O.  F.  diverser.  shy. 

Dyversitee,  n.,  see  Diversitee.  Elye,  Elijah. 

Embassadour,    n.,    ambassador. 

F.  ambassadeur. 

Eacides,      .ffiacides:      Achilles,  Embpsed,  p.  p.,  plunged  into  a 

grandson  of  Macus.  thicket,  exhausted. 

Ebrayk,  Hebrew.    See  Hebraik.  Embrouded,  p.  p.,  embroidered. 

Ecclesiaste,  n.,  minister.  Emelward,    toward    Emilia:     a 

Ecclesiaste,    Ecclesiasticus:    one  region  in  Italy. 

of  the  books  of  the  Apocrypha.  Emeraude,  n.,  emerald.     0.  F. 

Ech,  adj.,  each.     A.  S.  able.  esmeraude. 

Eche,     v.,     increase,     augment.  Ernes,  n.,  gen.,  see  Eem. 

A.  S.  ecan.  Emforth,  prep.,  to  the  extent  of. 

Echoon,  Echon,  pron.,  each  one,  Emperesse,  n.,  empress.     0.  F. 

every  one.  Empoisoner,  n.,  poisoner. 

Eclympasteyr:  son  of  Morpheus,  Empoisoning,  s.,  poisoning.     F. 

named    Icelon    and    Phobetora  empoisonner. 

in  Ovid.     Chaucer  found   the  Emprente,  v.,  imprint,  impress. 

present  name  in  Froissart.  O.  F.  empreindre. 

Ector,  Hector.  Empryse,  n.,  enterprise,  under- 

Eek,  adv.,  also,  eke,  moreover.  taking,   emprise.     0.  F.   em- 

A.  S.  eac.  prise. 

Eem,  n.,  uncle.     A.  S.  earn.  Enbrace,  v.,  embrace,  surround. 

Eest,  n.,  adv.,  east.    See  Est.  O.  F.  embracier. 

Eet,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Ete.  Enbrouded,  p.  p.,  embroidered. 

Eft,  adv.,  again.    A.  S.  eft.  See  Embrouded. 

Eft-sone,    Eft-sones,    adv.,    im-  Encens,  n.,  incense.     0.  F. 

mediately      afterward,      soon  Enchaunte,  v.,  enchant.     0.  F. 

after,  once  again.    A.  S.  eft —  enchanter. 

sona.  Enchauntement,     n.,     enchant- 

Egal,  adv.,  equally.    F.  ment.    O.  F.  enchantement. 

Egipte,  Egypt.  Enchesoun,  n.,  occasion,  reason. 

Egle,  n.,  eagle.    0.  F.  O.  F.  encheson. 

Egre,  adj.,  sharp,  fierce,  bitter.  Enclyne,  v.,  induce,  incline.     0. 

F.  aigre.  F.  encliner. 

Eighte,  n.,  eight.     A.  S.  eahta.  Encombre,  y..  encumber,  hamper. 

Eir,  n.,  see  Eyr.  0.  F.  encombrer. 


GLOSSARY  447 

Encombrous,  adj.,  cumbersome.  Entraille,  n.,  entrails,  inside.    0. 

Encrees,  n.,  increase.  F. 

Encrese,    v.,    increase.      O.    F.  Entree,  n.,  entry,  entrance.   0.  F. 

encreistre.  entre. 

Ende,  n.,  end,  boundary.     A.  S.  Entremedled,  p.  p.,  intermingled. 

Endelong,  adv.,  prep.,  all  along,  O.  F.  entremedler. 

lengthways.  Entremes,  n.,  intervening  course, 

Endyte,  v.,  write,   compose,  re-  a  dish  served  between  courses. 

late,  dictate.     0.  F.  enditer.  O.  F. 

Eneydos,       ££neid        (Mneidos  Entremete,  v.,  interfere,  meddle 

liber).  with.     0.  F.  entremetre. 

Enforme,  v.,  inform.    0.  F.  en-  Entreparte,    v.,    share.      O.    F. 

former.  entrepartir. 

Engelond,  England.  Entryke,     v.,     ensnare,     entrap. 

Engendrure,  n.,  procreation,  be-  0.  F.  entriquier. 

getting.     0.  F.  engendreure.  Entune,  v.,  intone,  tune.    0.  F. 

Engyn,     n.,     device,     machine.  entoner. 

ingenuity.    0.  F.  engin.  Entunes,  n.,  plu.,  tunes. 

Engyned,  p.  p.,  tortured.     0.  F.  Envoluped,     p.     p.,     enveloped. 

engignier.  O.  F.  envoluper. 

Enhabit,  p.  p.,  devoted.     0.  F.  Envye,  n.,  malice,    spite,  envy. 

enhabiter.  F.  envie. 

Enhaunce,    v.,    enhance,    raise,  Envye,    v.,    vie,    strive.      O.    F. 

exalt.     A.  F.  enhauncer.  envier. 

Enhorte,  v.,  exhort.     0.  F.  en-  Envyned,  p.  p.,  provided  with  a 

horter.  store  of  wine.     0.  F.  envine. 

Enlumine,  v.,  illumine.     F.  en-  Envyous,    adj.,    envious,    spite- 

luminer.  ful,  malicious. 

Enok,  Enoch.  Eolus,  ^Eolus. 

Enoynt,  p.  p.,  anointed.     O.  F.  Equitee,  n.,  equity,  justice.     F. 

enoindre.  equite. 

Enquere,     v.,     inquire.       0.    F.  Er,    adv.,    conj.,    prep.,    before. 

enquerre.  A.  S.  aer.     See  Or. 

Ensample,    Ensaumple,    n.,    ex-  Brand,  n.,  errand.    A.S.  serende. 

ample,    pattern.      O.    F.    en-  Erbe  Yve,  n.,  herb  eve,  ground 

sample.  ivy. 

Enseled,  p.  p.,  sealed  up,  com-  Erchedeken,  n.,  archdeacon.    A. 

pleted.    0.  F.  enseeler.  S.  arcediacon. 

Enspyre,     v.,     inspire.       0.     F.  Ercules,  Hercules. 

enspirer.  Ere,  n.,  ear.     A.  S.  eare. 

Ensure,  v.,  promise,  certify.  Ere,  v.,  plough.     A.  S.  erian. 

Entencioun,    n.,    intention,    at-  Erl,  n.,  earl.     A.  S.  eorl. 

tention,    design.      O.    F.    en-  Erly,  adv.,  early.      A.  S.  aerlice. 

tencion.  Erme,  v.,  feel  sad,  grieve.    A.  S. 

Entende,     v.,     attend,     intend,  earmian. 

perceive.     0.   F.   entendre.  Ernest,  n.,  earnest,  seriousness. 

Entendement,     n.,     perception.  A.  S.  eornost. 

0.  F.  Ernestful,  adj.,  serious. 

Entente,  n.,  intention,  meaning,  Erratik,    adj.,    wandering.       L. 

attention.     O.   F.    entente.  erraticus. 

Ententif,  adj.,  attentive,  careful.  Erraunt,  adj.,  errant,  stray.     0. 

O.  F.  F.  errant. 

Ententifly,  adv.,  attentively.  Errour,  n.,  error.     0.  F.  error. 


448 


GLOSSARY 


Erst,  adv.,  first,  at  first.  A.  S. 
aerest. 

Erthe,  n.,  earth.    A.  S.  eorSe. 

Erthely,  adj.,  earthly,  mortal. 
A.  S.  eor]?lic. 

Eschaunge,  n.,  exchange.  O.  F. 
eschange. 

Eschewe,  ;>.,  eschew,  avoid,  shun. 
O.  F.  eschiwer. 

Ese,n.,  ease,  pleasure.   0.  ^.aise. 

Ese,  v.,  give  ease,  make  at  home, 
entertain.  0.  F.  aisier. 

Esiliche,  Esily,  adv.,  easily. 

Espye,  n.,  spy.     0.  F.  espie. 

Espye,  v.,  espy,  observe,  per- 
ceive. O.  F.  espier. 

Est,  n.,  adj.,  east.  A.  S.  east. 
See  Eest. 

Estaat,  Estat,  n.,  state,  rank, 
condition.  0.  F.  estat. 

Estatlich,  Estatly,  adj.,  stately, 
dignified. 

Estiaunge,  adj.,  strange.  0.  F. 
estrange. 

Estre,  n.,  inner  part  of  a  build- 
ing, recess.  O.  F. 

Estward,  adv.,  eastward,  in  the 
east. 

Esy,  adj.,  easy.    O.  F.  aisie. 

Ete,  v.,  eat.     A.  S.  etan. 

Eterne,  adj.,   eternal.     O.   F. 

Ethe,  adj.,  easy.     A.  S.  eac5e. 

Evangelist,  n.,  writer  of  the 
Gospel.  F.  evangeliste. 

Evel,  adv.,  ill.     A.  S.  yfela. 

Even,  n.,  evening.    A.  S.  sefen. 

Even,  evene,  adv.,  exactly, 
evenly.  A.  S.  efne. 

Eventyde,  n.,  evening.  A.  S. 
sef  entid  /. 

Evere,  adv.,  ever.     A.  S.  aefre. 

Everemo,  adv.,  forevermore,  al- 
ways. A.  £.  sefre — ma. 

Everich,  adj.,  each,  every  one. 
A.  S.  aefre—  able. 

Everichoon,  Everychoon,  prow., 
every  one,  each  one.  Everich 
—A.  S.  an. 

Everydel,  adv.,  every  bit,  alto- 
gether. Every— A.  S.  dsel. 

Ew,  n.,  yew  tree.    A.  S.  eow. 

Excercyse,  n.,  exercise.  F.  ex- 
ercice. 


Excesse,  n.,  excess,  excess  of 
feeling.  L.  excessus. 

Execucioun,  n.,  execution.  F. 
execution. 

Executrice,  n.,  (female)  per- 
former, causer.  A.  F. 

Exemple,  n.,  example.  0.  F. 
example. 

Exercyse,  n.,  see  Excercyse. 

Exorsisaciouns,     n.,     exorcisms. 

Expoune,  v.,  explain,  expound. 
O.  F.  espondre;  L.  exponere. 

Expres,  adv.,  expressly.     F. 

Exyle,  v.,  exile.     O.  F.  exillier. 

Ey,  n.,  egg.     A.  S.  aeg. 

Ey,  inter j.,  eh!  alas! 

Eye,  n.,  eye.   A.S.eage.   SeeYe. 

Eyen,  n.,  plu.,  see  Eye. 

Eyle,  v.,  ail.    A.  S.  eglan. 

Eyr,  n.,  air.    O.  F.  air. 

Eyrish,  adj.,   of  the  air,  aerial. 

Eyther,  adj.,  either.  A.  S. 
aegSer. 


Facound,  adj.,  eloquent,  fluent. 
O.  F.  facond. 

Facounde,  n.,  eloquence.  O.  F. 
faconde. 

Facultee,  n.,  faculty,  power. 
F.  faculte. 

Fader,  n.,  father.    A.  S.  f seder. 

Fadme,  n.,  phi.,  fathoms.  A.  S. 
faeSm  /. 

Faille,  v.,  fail.    F.  faillir. 

Faire,  adv.,  fairly,  well,  honestly. 
A.  S.  faegere. 

Fairnesse,  n.,  beauty,  honesty. 
A.  S.  faegernes/. 

Fal,  n.,  fall. 

Falding,  n.,  a  sort  of  coarse  cloth. 

Falle,  v.,  befall,  happen,  become. 
A.  S.  feallan. 

False,  adj.,  false,  cheating.  O.  F. 
fals. 

False,  v.,  deceive,  betray,  falsify. 
L.  falsare. 

Falwe,  adj.,  fallow,  yellowish. 
A.  S.  fealo. 

Fame,  n.,  notoriety,  rumor,  re- 
nown. 0.  F. 

Famulier,  adj.,  familiar,  inti- 
mate. F. 


GLOSSARY  449 

Fantastyk,  adj.,  belonging  to  the  Felaweshipe,     n.,     partnership, 

fancy.    F.  fantastique.  companionship.    Felawe —  A. 

Fantasye,    n.,    fancy,    imagina-  £.-scipe. 

tion,  desire,  pleasure.     0.  F.  Feld,  n.,  see  Feeld. 

fantasia.  Feld,  p.  p.,  felled.     From  Felle. 

Fantosme,  n.,  phantom,  illusion.  A.  S.  fellan. 

O.  F.  Felde-fare,  n.,  field-fare.     A.  S. 

Far,  v.,  imper.  sing.,  see  Fare.  feldefare. 

Fare,     n.,     behavior,     conduct,  Fele,  adj.,  many.     A.  S.  feola. 

condition,    goings-on,    bustle,  Fele,  v.,  feel,  experience,  try  to 

proceeding.    A.  S.  faru.  find  out.    A.  S.  felan. 

Fare,  v.,  go,  travel,  act,  behave.  Felicitee,  n.,  felicity,  happiness. 

A.  S.  faran.  F.  felicite. 

Fare-carte,    n.,    travelling   cart.  Felinge,  «.,  feeling.    A.  S.  felan. 

See  Carte.  Felingly,  adv.,  feelingly. 

Parsed,   p.    p.,    stuffed.     O.   F.  Felon,  adj.,  sullen,  angry.    O.  F. 

farsir.  Felonye,  n.,  felony,  crime.    0.  F. 

Faste,  adv.,  closely,  close,  near.  felonie. 

A.  S.  faeste.  Femenye:     the    country    of    the 

Faucon,  n.,  falcon.     O.  F.  Amazons. 

Faught,  v.,  pret.,  fought.     From  Feminyne,    adj.,    feminine.      L. 

Fighte.     A.  S.  feohtan.  femininus. 

Fauned,  v.,  pret.,  fawned  on.     A.  Fen,  n.,  a  chapter  or  subdivision 

S.  fagnian.  in  Avicenna's  book  called  the 

Faunes,    n.,    plu.,    fawns.      L.  Canon.     Arabic  fann. 

faunus.     See  Founes.  Fenix,  n.,  phcenix. 

Fawe,  adv.,  fain,  anxiously.      A.  Fer,     adj.,     adv.,     far.     A.     S. 

S.  faegen.  feor. 

Fayn,    adj.,    glad;    adv.,    gladly.  Ferd,   n.,   fear.     For  ferde,   on 

A.  S.  faegen.  account  of  fear. 

Faynte,  v.,  faint.  Ferd,  p.  p.;  Ferde,  v.,  prel.;  see 

Fayre,  n.,  fair,  market.     0.  F.  Fare. 

feire.  Ferd,  Fered,  p.  p.,  see  Fere. 

Feble,  adj.,  feeble.    O.  F.  feible.  Fere,  n.,  fear.     A.  S.  fser. 

Feblenesse,  n.,  feebleness.  Fere,  v.,  frighten.    A.  S.  faeran. 

Fecches,  n.,  plu.,  vetches.    0.  F.  Fere,    n.,    companion.      A.    S. 

veche.  gefera. 

Fecche,   v.,   fetch,    get.      A.   S.  Fere,  n.,  dat.,  see  Fyr. 

feccan.  Ferfoith,  adv.,  far. 

Fedde,  v.,  pret.,  fed.    From  Fede.  Ferforthly,  adv.,  thoroughly. 

A.S.  fedan.  Ferfulleste,    adj.,   superl.,    most 

Feeld,  n.,  field.     A.  S.  feld.  fearful,  most  timid. 

Feend,  n.,  fiend,  devil.     A.  S.  Ferme,  adj.,  firm.    O.  F. 

feond.  Fermely,  adv.,  firmly. 

Fees,  n.   plu.,    fees,    payments.  Feme,  adj.,  plu.,  distant,  remote. 

O.  F.  fie.  From  Ferren.     A.  S.  feorran. 

Feith,  n.,  faith.    O.  F.  feit.  Ferrare,  Ferrara. 

Feithful,  adj.,  faithful.  Ferre,  adj.,  compar.,  see  Fer. 

Fel,  n.,  fell,  skin.     A.  S.  fell.  Ferreste,  adj.,  superl.,  see  Fer. 

Fel,  adj.,  cruel,  fell.     O.  F.  fel.  Fers,   n.,    the    queen    in    chess. 

Fel,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Falle.  O.  F.  fierce. 

Felawe,  n.,   fellow,   companion.  Ferthe,    adj.,    fourth.       A.    S. 

O.  N.  felagi.  feortSa. 


450  GLOSSARY 

Ferther,  adj..  adv.,  further.     A.  Fisshe,  v.,  fish.  A.  S.  fiscian. 

S.  fur<5ra.  Fithele,  n.,  fiddle.     A.  S.  fiSele, 

Ferthing,     n.,     farthing,     small  Fixe,  adj.,  fixed.     0.  F.  fixe. 

portion.      A.   S.   feoroung.  Flatering,  adj.,  flattering. 

Ferventliche,    adv.,    fervently.  Flateringe,  s.,  flattery. 

Fery,  adj.,  see  Fyry.  Flatour,    n.,     flatterer.       0.    F. 
Fesaunt,   n.,    pheasant.     0.   F.        flateor. 

faisant.  Flaumbe,  Flaume,  n.,  flame.    O. 
Fest,  n.,  fist,     A.  S.  fyst.  F.  flame. 

Feste,  n.,  feast,  festival,  merri-  Flaundres,  Flanders. 

ment.     0.  F.  Flaundrish,  Flemish. 

Feste,  v.,  feast.     O.  F.  fester.  Flawme,  n.,  see  Flaumbe. 

Festeyinge,  s.,  festivity.    O.  F.  Flee,  v.,  fly.     A.  S.  fleogan. 

festeier.  Flee,  v.,  flee.     A.  S.  fleon. 

Festne,  v.,  fasten.    A.  S.  faest-  Flegiton,  Phlegethon. 

nian.  Fleigh,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  flew,  fled. 
Fet,  p.  p.,  see  Fecche.  See  Flee. 

Fete,  n.,  dat.  phi.,  feet.     A.  S.  Fleming,  s.,  banishment,  flight. 

fot.  A.  S.  flyman. 

Fether,  n.,  feather.     A.  S.  fetSer.  Flen,  v.,  pres.  plu.,  see  Flee. 

Fetherbed,  n.,  feather-bed.     A.  Fleshly,  adv.,  carnally. 

S.  feoer-bedd.  Flete,  v.,  float,  bathe,  flow.     A. 
Fethered,    adj.,    provided    with        S.  fleotan. 

feathers.  Flex,  n.,  flax.     A.  8.  fleax. 

Fetis,     adj.,     neat,     well-made,  Fley,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  flew.     From 

graceful.    0.  F.  feitis.  Flee,  fly.     See  Fleigh. 

Fetisly,  adv.,  neatly,  elegantly.  Flight,  n.,  flight. 

Fette,  v.,  pret.,  see  Fecche.  Flikere,  v.,  flicker,  flutter.    A.  S. 
Fettres,  n.,  plu.,  fetters.     A.  S.        flicerian. 

feter.  Flitte,  v.,  flit,  pass  away.    0.  N. 
Fetys,  adj.,  see  Fetis.  flytja. 

Fevere,  n.,  fever.     A.  S.  fefor;  Flok,  n.,  flock. 

cf.  O.  F.  fievre.  Flokmele,  adv.,  in  a  flock.    A.  S. 
Fewe,  adj.,  few.     A.  S.  feawe.        floe — maelum  (dative  plu.). 

Fey,  n.,  faith.     A.  F.  fei.  Flood,  n.,  flood,  river.  ^A.S.  flod. 

Feyne,  v.,  feign,  pretend.    O.  F.  Flotery,    adj.,    fluttering,    wavy. 

feindre.  Plough,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Flee. 

Feynest,     adv.,     superl.,     most  Flour,  n.,    flower,    choice    part. 

gladly.     A.  S.  faegen.  O.  F. 

Feynte,  v.,  see  Faynte.  Flour-de-lys,  n.,  fleur-de-lis.    F. 

Fiers,  adj.,  fierce.      0.  F.    fier  Floure,  v.,  flower,  flourish.     Cf. 

(nom.  fiers).  O.  F.  florir. 

Fifte,  ord.  num.  fifth.  A.  S.  fifta.  Floury,  adj.,  flowery. 

FIftene,    adj.,    fifteen.       A.    S.  Floute,  n.,  flute.     O.  F.  flehute. 

fiftene.  Flowen,  v.,  pret.  plu.;  p.  p.;  see 
Fil,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Falle.  Flee. 

Fille,  n.,  fill.     A.  S.  fyllo.  Floyting,    pres.    partic.,    playing 
Fille,  v.,  pret.  plu.,  see  Falle.  on  the  flute.    0.  F.  fleiiter. 

Finch,   n.,    finch    (bird).    A.   S.  Flye,  n.,  fly.     A.  S.  flyge. 

fine.     Pulle  a  finch,  pluck  a  Flyen,  v.,  pret.  plu.,  see  Flee. 

dupe.  Fo,  n.,  see  Foo. 

Finnes,  n.,  plu.,  fins.    A.  S.  firm.  Folde,  n.,  fold,  sheepfold.    A.  S. 
Firr,  n.,  fir  (tree).    Danish  fyrr.        falod. 


GLOSSARY 


451 


Foils,  n.,  plu.,  see  Fool. 
Folwe,  v.,  follow.    A.  S.  folgian. 
Foly,  adv.,  foolishly. 
Folye,  n.,  folly.     O.  F.  folie. 
Fomy,  adj.,  fcamy.    A.  S.  famig. 
Fond,     v.,     pret.     sing.,     found. 

From  Finde.    A.  S.  findan. 
Fonde,    v.,    endeavour.      A.    S. 

fandian. 
Fonde,  v.,  pret.  sing,  subj.,  would 

find.      From    Finde.      A.    S. 

findan. 

Foo,  n.,  foe.     A.  S.  fan. 
Fool,  n.,  fool.     O.  F.  fol. 
Foom,  n.,  foam.     A.  S.  fam. 
Foon,  n.,  plu.,  see  Foo. 
Foot-brede,     n.,     foot-breadth. 

See  Brede. 

Foot-mantel,  n.,  foot-cloth,  cov- 
ering   to    protect    the     skirt. 

A.  S.  fot—O.  F.  mantel. 
Forbar,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Forbere. 
Forbede,  v.,  forbid.     A.  S.  for- 

beodan. 
Forbere,  v.,  forbear.     A.  S.  for- 

beran. 

Forbode,   p.   p.,  see  Forbede. 
Forby,  adv.,  by,  past.      A.    S. 

for — bi. 
For-do,    v.,    destroy,    overcome. 

A.  S.  for  don. 
For-dronken,    p.    p.,    extremely 

drunk.    A .  S.  p.  p..  fordruncen. 
Forest,  n.,  forest.     6.  F. 
Foresteres,  n.,  plu.   See  Forster. 
Forgat,    v.,    pret.    sing.,    forgot. 

Fi  om  Forgete.    A .  S.  forgietan. 

See  Foryete. 
Forgete,  p.  p.,  forgotten.    From 

Forgete.       A.     S.     forgietan. 

See  Foryete. 
For-go,    p.    p.,    exhausted    with 

walking.     A .  S.  forgan. 
Forgo,   v.,  forgo,    give   up,    lose. 

A.  S.  forgan. 
Forheed,   n.,    forehead.      A.   S. 

forheafod. 

Forknowinge,  pres.  partic.,  fore- 
knowing.    A.S.  for — cnawan. 
Forlete,  v.,  leave,  forsake,  aban- 
don.    A.  S.  forlsetan. 
Forlong, n . , furlong.  A.S. f  urlang. 

A  forlong  wey,  a  short  time. 


Forlost,  p.  p.,  utterly  lost.  A.S. 
for — leosan. 

Forloyn,  n.,  note  on  a  horn  for 
recall.  Cf.  0.  F.  v.  forsloignier. 

Forme,  n.,  form.     0.  F. 

Formel,  n.,  female  of  the  eagle, 
female  bird  in  general. 

Formest,  adj.,  superL.  foremost. 
A.  S. 

Forn-cast,  p.  p.,  premeditated. 
A.  S.  foran— O.  N.  kasta. 

Forneys,  n.,  furnace.  0.  F. 
fornais. 

For-pyned,  p.  p.,  wasted  away 
by  torment. 

Fors,  n.,  force,  significance.  0. 
F.  force.  No  fors,  no  matter, 
no  consequence.  Do  no  fors, 
take  no  account  of. 

Forseid,  p.  p.  adj.,  aforesaid. 

Forshapen,  p.  p.,  metamorphosed. 
A.  S.  forscieppan. 

Forsleuthe,   v.,   waste   in   sloth. 

Forster,  n.,  forester.    F.  forestier. 

Forsweringe,  «.,  perjury.  A.  S. 
forswerian. 

For  there,  v.,  further.  A.  S. 
fyrSran. 

Forther-moor,  adv.,  further  on, 
moreover.  A.  S.  fur<5ra — 
mara. 

Forther-over,  adv.,  moreover. 
A.  S.  furSra — ofer. 

For-thinke,  v.,  seem  amiss,  dis- 
please, seem  serious.  A.  S. 
for — pyncan. 

Forthre,  v.,  see  Forthere. 

For-thy,  adv.,  therefore.  A.  S. 
forSy. 

Forttma  maior:  a  name  for  the 
planet  Jupiter,  the  influence  of 
which  was  supposed  to  be  bene- 
ficent .  Venus  was  also  supposed 
to  have  favorable  influence,  and 
was  called  "Forluna  minor." 

Fortune,  v.,  give  (good  or  bad) 
fortune  to,  happen.  0.  F. 
fortuner.  Fortunen  the  as- 
cendent of  his  images,  choose 
a  fortunate  ascendant  for  treat- 
ing the  images:  in  order  to 
effect  a  cure  by  magic  or  planet- 
ary influence  an  image  of  the 


452 


GLOSSARY 


patient  could  be  made,  which  was 
submitted  to  the  proper  treat- 
ment, and  by  which  the  influ- 
ence was  transferred  to  the 
patient.  The  images,  of  course, 
had  to  be  made  and  treated  at 
exactly  the  right  time.  See 
Ascendent. 

Forwaked,  p.  p.,  exhausted  with 
watching.  A.  S.  for— wacian. 

Forward,  n.,  agreement,  cove- 
nant. A.  S.  foreweard. 

Forweped,  p.  p.,  exhausted 
through  weeping.  A.  S.  for — 
we  pan. 

For-why,  conj.,  wherefore,  why, 
because. 

Forwiting,  s.,  foreknowledge.  A. 
S.  forewitan. 

Forwot,  v.,  pres.  sing.,  foreknows, 
foresees.  From  Forewite.  A. 
S.  forewitan. 

Forwrapped,  p.  p.,  wrapped  up, 
concealed. 

Foryaf,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Foryive. 

Foryede,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  gave  up. 
See  Forgo. 

Foryete, v.,  forget.  A . S. f orgietan. 

Foryetful,  adj.,  forgetful. 

Foryeve,  Foryive,  v.,  forgive, 
remit.  A.  S.  forgiefan. 

Fostre,  v.,  foster.    A.  S.  n.  fostor. 

Fother,  n.,  load,  great  quantity. 
A.  S.  foSer. 

Fot-hoot,  adv.,  instantly,  im- 
mediately. A.  S.  fot— -hat. 

Foudre,  n.,  thunderbolt.  O.  F. 
foldre. 

Foul,  n.,  bird,  fowl.    A.  S.  fugol. 

Foul,  adj.,  foul.     A.  S.  ful. 

Foule,  adv.,  foully,  vilely. 

Foundement,  n.,  foundation.  0. 
F.  fundement. 

Foundre,  v.,  founder,  stumble. 
O.  F.  fondrer. 

Founes,  n.,  plu.,  fawns.  O.  F. 
faon.  See  Faunes. 

Foure,  adj.,  four.    A.  S.  feower. 

Fourtenight,  n.,  fortnight. 

Fourty,  adj.,  forty.  A.  S. 
feowertig. 

Fowel,  n.,  see  Foul. 

Foyne,  v.,  thrust.    0.  F.  n.  foine. 


Fraknes,  n.,  plu.,  freckles.  O.  N. 
freknur  (plu.) 

Frankeleyn,  n.,  franklin,  a  land- 
owner ranking  next  below  the 
gentry.  A.  F.  fraunclein. 

Frape,  n.,  company,  throng.  O.  F. 

Fraternitee,  n.,  fraternity, 
brotherhood,  O.  F.  fraternite. 

Fraunce,  France. 

Frayne,  v.,  pray,  beseech,  ask, 
question.  A.  S.  frignan. 

Fre,  adj.,  see  Free. 

Fredom,  n.,  freedom,  liberality. 
A.  S.  freedom. 

Free,  adj.,  free,  liberal,  bounte- 
ous, noble.  A.  S.  freo. 

Freend,  n.,  friend.    A.  S.  freond. 

Freendlich,  adj.,  friendly.  A.  S. 
freondlic. 

Freendschipe,  n.,  friendship. 
A.  S.  freond — scipe. 

Freletee,  n.,  frailty.  O.  F. 
frailete. 

Frely,  adv.,  freely. 

Fremde,  Fremede,  adj.,  foreign, 
strange,  wild.  A.  S.  fremede. 

Frendly,  adv.,  friendly. 

Frendlyeste,  adj.,  superl.,  see 
Freendlich. 

Frendschipe,  n.,  see  Freend- 
schipe. 

Frenesye,  n.,  frenzy,  madness. 
O.  F.  frenesie. 

Frenetyk,  adj.,  frantic.  0.  F. 
frenetique. 

Frenges,  n.,  plu.,  fringes.  0.  F. 
frenge. 

Frensh,  French. 

Frere,  n.,  friar.    O.  F.  frere. 

Freshe,  Fresshe,  adj.,  fresh, 
bright.  A.S.  fersc;  O.  F.  fres. 

Fresshe,  adv.,  freshly. 

Frete,  v.,  eat,  devour.  A.  S. 
fretan. 

Freyne,  v.,  see  Frayne. 

Fro,  adv.,  prep.,  from. 

Frote,  v.,  rub.     O.  F.  froter. 

Fruyt,  n.,  fruit.     F.  fruit. 

Fruytesteres,  n.,  plu.,  female 
fruit-sellers,  fruit-sellers. 

Fryse,  Friesland. 

Fugitif,  adj.,  fugitive,  fleeing 
from.  F. 


GLOSSARY  453 

Fulfille,  v.t  fulfill,  fill  full.    A.  S.  Galle,  n.,  gall.    A.  S.  gealla. 

fulfyllan.  Game,  n.,  game,  sport.     A.  S. 

Fulliche,    adv.,    fully.      A.    S.  gamen. 

fullice.  Game,  v.,  rejoice,  please.    A.  S. 

Fume,  n.,  vapor.     O.  F.  gamenian. 

Fumetere,  n.,  fumitory:  an  herb.  Gamen,  n.,  see  Game. 

O.  F.  fumeterre.  Gan,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Ginne. 

Fumigaciouns,  n.,  plu.,  fumiga-  Gappe,  n.,  gap. 

tions.     L.  fumigatio.  Gardin-wal,     n.,     garden     wall. 

Fumositee,    n.,    fumes    arising  0.  F.  gardin — A.  S.  weall. 

from  drink.     O.  F.  fumosite.  Gargat,  n.,  throat.  O.  F.  gargate. 
Fundement,  n.,  see  Foundement.  Garleek,  n.,  garlic.     A.  S.  gar- 
Funeral,  adj.,  funereal.  leac. 
Furie,  n.,  rage,  fury,  one  of  the  Garlondes,  n.,  plu.,  see  Gerland. 

Furies.    F.  Gastly,    adv.,    ghastly,    terrible. 
Furlong,  n.,  see  Forlong.  Gat,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Gete. 
Fustian,  n.,   fustian:  a  kind  of  Gatesden,  John  Gatisden  of  Ox- 
coarse  cloth.  ford:  a  distinguished  physician 
Fy,  inter -j.,  fie!  of  the  earlier  half  of  the  four- 
Fyle,  n.,  file.     A.  S.  feol  /.  teenth  century. 
Fyle,  v.,  file,  sharpen.  Gat-tothed,     adj.,     haying     the 
Fyn,  n.,  end,  aim,  object.    0.  F.  teeth  far  apart:  a  sign  of  an 

fin.  amorous  temperament. 

Fyn,  adj.,  fine,  good.    O.  F.  fin.  Gaude,  n.,  gaud,  toy,  trick. 

Fynal,  adj.,  final.    F.  final.  Gaude,  adj.,  dyed  with  weld. 

Fynally,  adv.,  finally.  Gauded,   p.   p.,   furnished  with 

Fyne,  v.,  finish.     O.  F.  finer.  beads  (catted  gauds'). 

Fyneste,  adj.,  superl.,  see  Fyn.  Gaufred,   Geoffrey   de  Vinsauf : 

Fyr,  n.,  fire.     A.  S.  fyr.  an     Anglo-Norman     trouvere 

Fyrbrand,_n.,  fire-brand,  torch.  of  the  end  of  1he  twelfth  century 

A.  S.  fyr-brand.  and  the  beginning  of  the  thir- 

Fyr-makinge,  n.,  making  of  the  teenth,  author  of  the  Nova  Poe- 

fire.     A.  8.  fyr — macian.  tria. 

Fyr-reed,  adj.,  red  as  fire.     See  Gaufride,     Geoffrey    of     Mon- 

Reed.  mouth. 

Fyry,  adj.,  fiery.  Gaunt,  Ghent. 

Fyve,  adj.,  five.     A.  S.  fife.  Gaure,  v.,  stare,  gaze. 

Gay,   adj.,   gay,   finely  dressed. 

F.  gai. 

Gabbe,    v.,    boast,    speak    idly.  Gayler,  n.,  jailer.    0.  F.  jaiolier. 

O.   N.  gabba.  Gayne,  v.,  avail,  profit.     O.  N. 

Gadere,  v.,  gather.    A.  S.  gader-  gegna. 

ian.  Gaytres  beryis,  n.,  plu.,  berries 

Galaxye,    n.,    the    Galaxy:    the  of  the  gait-tree  (according  to 

Milky  Way.  Skeaf):  the  "gait-tree"  or  goat- 

Galgopheye,    Gargaphia:    where  tree  is  the  buckthorn. 

Actceon  was  changed  into  a  stag.  Geaunt,  n.,  giant.    O.  F.  geant. 

Galice,  Gallicia  in  Spain.  Gebet,  n.,  gibbet,  gallows.    O.  F. 

Galien,  Galen:  a  Greek  physician,  gibet. 

c.  130-200  A.   D.j  famous  in  Gemme,  n.,  gem.    F. 

the  Middle  Ages.  Gendres,  n.,  plu.,  kinds.     O.  F. 

Galingale,    n.,    sweet    cyperus:  gendre. 

used  as  a  spice.  Genelon,    Ganelon:  one  of  the 


454  GLOSSARY 

twelve    peers   of   Charlemagne.  beginnan.   Gan   (as  auxiliary 

He   betrayed   Roland  and  his  verb),  did. 

men  at  Roncesvalles,  and  became  Ginning,  s.,  beginning. 

known  through  the  romances  as  Gipoun,   n.,    tunic,    long   sleeve- 

one  of  the  great,  traitors.  less    coat    worn    over    armor. 

General,    adj.,    liberal,    general,  O.  F.  gipon. 

universal.     0.  F.  Gipser,  n.,  pouch  or  purse  worn  at 

Genilon,  see  Genelon.  the  girdle.     F.  gibeciere. 

Gent,   adj.,    noble,    refined,    ex-  Girdel,  n.,  girdle.  A.  S.  gyrdel. 

quisite.    0.  F.  Girles,  n.,   plu.,  young    people 

Gentil,   adj.,   gentle,    noble,   re-  (male  or  female). 

fined,  mild.    0.  F.  Giternes,  n.,  plu.,  from  Giterne: 

Gentillesse,   n.,   gentleness,    no-  a   wire-strung   instrument   like 

bility,   courtesy,   good  breed-  a   guitar.     O.   F.   guiterne. 

ing.     F.  gentilesse.  Glade,  v.,  gladden,  cheer.    A.  S. 

Gentilleste,     adj.,     superl.,     see  gladian. 

Gentil.  Glare,  v.,  glare,  shine. 

Gentils,     n.,     plu.,     gentlefolk.  Glas,  n.,  glass.     A.  S.  glass. 

See  Gentil.  Glascurion,       Glasgerion:       the 

Geometric,    n.,    geometry.      F.  harper    in   the    ballad  of   that 

geometric.  name.    See  Child,  English  and 

Gere,    n.,    gear,    armor,    equip-  Scottish  Popular  Ballads,   no. 

ment.  67. 

Gere,  n.,  changeful  manner,  fit  Glasing,  n.,  glazing,  glass-work. 

of  passion.  Glede,  n.,  burning  coal.     A.  S. 

Gerful,  adj.,  changeable.  gled/. 

Gerland,    n.,    garland.      0.    F.  Glee,  n.,  music,  musical  instru- 

garlande.  ment.     A.  S.  gleo. 
Gernade,  Granada.  Glente,   v.,    pret.   plu.,   glanced. 
Gerner,  n.,  garner.   O.  F.  gernier.  From  Glente. 
Gery,  adj.,  changeable.  Glewe,  v.,  glue,  fasten.     O.  F. 
Gesse,   v.,    suppose,    imagine.  gluer. 
Gest,  n.,  guest.     A.  S.  gaest.  Glitere,  v.,  glitter. 
Geste,  n.,  romance,  tale,  story,  Glose,  n.,  gloss,  comment,  mar- 
exploit,  deed.     O.  F.  ginal  comment.     O.  F. 
Gestiours,  n.,  plu.,  story-tellers.  Glose,     v.,     interpret,     explain. 
Gete,    v.,   get,    obtain.     0.    N.  O.  F.  gloser. 

geta.  Glotonye,  n.,   gluttony.     0.   F. 

Gigges,   n.,    plu.,    rapid    move-  glotonie. 

ments.  Glotoun,    n.,    glutton.      0.    F. 

Gilbertyn,     possibly     Gilbertus  gluton. 

Anglicus:  celebrated  writer  on  Glyde,  v.,  glide,  slip,  pass  quickly. 

medicine,  fl.  c.  1250.  A.  S.  gHdan. 

Gilden,    adj.,    of   gold.      A.   S.  Gobet,  n.,  piece,  morsel.    0.  F. 

gylden.  Goddesse,  n.,  goddess. 

Gilt,  n.,   guilt,   offence.     A.  S.  Godhede,  n.,  godhead,  divinity. 

gylt.  Godly,    adj.,     goodly.       A.    S. 

Giltelees,  adj.,  guiltless.  godlic. 

Gilty,  adj.,  guilty.     A.  S.  gyltig.  Goldes,  n.,  plu.,  marigolds.     A. 

Gin,  n.,  contrivance,  snare.     0.  S.  golde. 

F.  engin.  Golee,  n.,  mouthful  (of  words), 

Gingle,  v.,  jingle.  gabble.    O.  F. 

Ginne,  v.,  begin,  attempt.     A.  S.  Golet,  n.,  gullet.     O.  F.  gonlet. 


GLOSSARY 


455 


Goliardeys,  n.,   buffoon,   scurri- 

ous  talker.     O.  F.  goliardois. 
Gonne,  n.,  gun,  cannon. 
Gonne,  v.,  pret.  plu.,  see  Ginne. 
Goodlihede,  n.,  goodliness,  seem- 

liness,  beauty. 
Good-man,    n.,    master    of    the 

house.     A.  S.  god — man. 
Goon,  v.,  infin.,  go;  p.  p.,  gone; 

from  Go.     A.  S.  gan. 
Goos,  n.,  goose.     A.  S.  gos. 
Goosish,  adj.,  goose-like,  foolish. 
Goostly,    adv.,    spiritually,    de- 
voutly, truly.     A.  S.  gastlic. 
Goot,  n.,  goat.     A.  S.  gat. 
Gootland,    Gottland:    an   island 

in  the  Baltic. 
Goshauk,  n.,   goshawk.     A.  S. 

goshafuc. 
Gossib,   n.,   female   companion, 

sponsor.     A.  S.  godsibb. 
Gost,  n.,   ghost,   spirit.     A.  S. 

gast. 

Goter,  n.,  gutter.    O.  F.  goutiere. 
Goth,  v.,  pres.  sing.,  goes.    From 

Go.    See  Goon. 

Goune,  n.,  gown.    O.  F.  gone. 
Goute,  n.,  gout.     F. 
Governance,  n.,  mastery.    O.  F. 

governail. 
Governaunce,  n.,   management, 

control,     demeanor.       O.     F. 

gouvernance. 
Governement,   n.,    government. 

F.  gouvernement. 
Governing,  n.,  government,  con- 
trol. 
Governour,  n.,  governor,   ruler, 

umpire.     O.   F.   governeor. 
Gowne,  n.,  see  Goune. 
Grace,  n.,   favor,   grace,   honor. 

O.  F.    With  harde  grace,  with 

ill  favor,  with  displeasure. 
Gracelees,  adj.,   void  of  grace, 

without  favor. 
Grame,  n.,   anger,   grief,   harm. 

A.  S.  grama. 
Grammere,  n.,  grammar.    O.  F. 

gramaire. 

Gras,  n.,  grass.     A.  S.  graes. 
Graunges,  n.,  plu.,  barns.    A.  F. 

graunge. 
Graunt   mercy,   inter j.,    thanks, 


thank     you.      O.     F.    grant 

merci. 
Graunte,    v.,    grant,    agree    to. 

O.  F.  graanter. 
Grave,  v.,  engrave,  cut,  impress, 

dig,  bury.     A.  S.  grafan. 
Grece,  Greece. 

Grece,  n.,  grease.    0.  F.  graisse. 
Gree,  n.,  favor,  good  part.    O.  F. 

gre. 
Greet,    adj.,    great,    abundant. 

A.  S.  great. 

Grehoundes,     n.,     plu.,     grey- 
hounds.   A.S.  grighund. 
Grek,  Greek. 

Grene,  adj.,  green.    A.  S.  grene. 
Grenewich,  Greenwich. 
Grenish,  adj.,  greenish. 
Gres,  n.,  see  Gras. 
Gret,  adj.,  see  Greet. 
Grete,  v.,  greet.    A.  S.  gretan. 
Gretter,  adj.,  compar.,  see  Greet. 
Gretteste,  adj.,  superl,  see  Greet. 
Grevaunce,n.,  grievance,  trouble, 

hardship.    O.  F.  grevance. 
Greve,  n.,  grove.    A.  S.  graf. 
Greve,  v.,  grieve,  harm,  trouble. 

O.  F.  grever. 
Greyn,  n.,   grain,   corn.     O.  F. 

grein. 
Greyn,  n.,  dye,  fast  color.    0.  F. 

graine. 

Griffon,  n.,  griffin.    O.  F.  giifoun. 
Grint,  v.,  third  pers.  sing.,  pres. 

indie.,  grinds.     From  Grinde. 

A.  S.  grindan. 
Grisel,  "gray  hair":  name  given 

to  a  gray  horse.    O.  F. 
Grisly,    adj.,    horrible,    terrible. 

A.  S.  grislic. 

Grone,  v.,  groan.    A.  S.  granian. 
Grope,    v.,    try,    test,    examine. 

A.  S.  grapian. 
Grote,  n.,   groat:  a  coin.      The 

English  groat  coined  in  1351-2 

was  equal  to  four  pence.     0. 

Du.  groot. 
Grove,  n.,  grove.     A.    S.  graf. 

See  Greve. 
Grucche,  v.,  murmur,  grumble. 

O.  F.  grochier. 
Grucching,        s.,        murmuring, 

grumbling.     0.  F.  grochier. 


456 


GLOSSARY 


Gruf,  adv.,  groveling,  on  one's 
face.  O.  N.  griifa. 

Grys,  n.,  a  gray  fur.    O.  F.  gris. 

Guerdoning,  s.,  reward. 

Guerdoun,  n.,  reward,  recom- 
pense. 0.  F.  guerdon. 

Guido  de  Columpnis,  Guido 
delle  Colonne:  who  in  1270- 
1287  wrote  a  Latin  redaction 
(called  the  Historia  Trojana) 
of  the  Roman  de  Troye  of 
Benoit  de  Sainte-More. 

Gunne,  v.,  pret.  plu.,  see  Ginne. 

Gyde,  n.,  guide.     F.  guide. 

Gyde,  v.,  guide,  direct,  lead.  F. 
guider. 

Gye,  v.,  guide,  instruct,  govern. 
O.  F.  guier. 

Gyle,  n.,  deceit,  guile.  0.  F. 
guile. 

Gyse,  n.,  guise,  manner,  way. 
0.  F.  guise. 

Gytes,  n.,  plu.,  dresses.  Cf. 
O.  F.  guite. 

H 
Habergeon,    n.,    coat    of    mail 

shorter    than     the     hauberk; 

hauberk.    0.  F.  hauberjon  (di- 
minutive of  hauberc). 
Habitacioun,  n.,  habitation.     0. 

F.  habitation. 
Habitacles,    n.,    plu.,    habitable 

spaces,  niches.    O.  F. 
Habundant,  adj.,  abundant.    F. 

abondant. 
Habundaunce,    n.,     abundance. 

F.  abondance. 
Hadde,     v.,     pret.,     had.      See 

Han. 
Hailes,    n.,     plu.,     hail-storms. 

A.  S.  haegel. 
Hakke,   v.,   hack.      A.  S.   (to)- 

haccian. 
Hale,    v.,    draw,    haul,    attract. 

0.  F.  haler. 

Half,  adj.,  half.     A.  S.  healf. 
Half,  n.,  side.    A.  S.  healf. 
Halle,  n.,  hall.    A.  S.  heall/. 
Halp,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Helpe. 
Hals,  n.,  neck.     A.  8.  heals. 
Halse,  v.,  conjure,  beseech.     A. 

S.  healsian. 


Halt,  v. ,  third  pers.  sing.,  pres. 

indie.,  see  Halte. 
Halt,  v.,  third  pers.  sing.,  pres. 

indie.,  see  Holde. 
Halte,  v.,  go  halt,  limp.     A.  S. 

healtian. 
Halvendel,    n.,    the    half    part, 

half.    See  Deel. 
Halwes,  n.,  plu.,  saints.     A.  S. 

halig. 
Haly:  an  Arabian  physician  of 

the  eleventh  century. 
Hameled,  p.  p.,  mutilated,  cut 

off.    A.  S.  hamelian. 
Hamer,  n.,  hammer.     A.  S. 
Han,  v.,  infin.;  pres.  plu.;  have. 

A.  S.  haebban. 
Hap,  n.,   chance,  luck.     0.    N. 

happ. 

Happe,  v.,  happen. 
Hardely,  adv.,  hardly,  scarcely; 

boldly,     unhesitatingly,     cer- 
tainly.    A.  S.  heardlice. 
Hardiment,  n.,  boldness.    O.  F. 

hardement. 

Hardinesse,  n.,  boldness. 
Hardy,   adj.,   bold,   sturdy.     F. 

hardi. 
Harlot,  n.,  person  of  low  birth, 

ribald,  rogue.     0.  F. 
Harlotrye,  n.,  ribaldry,  wicked- 
ness, ribald  jest. 
Harneised,  p.  p.,  equipped.    Cf. 

O.  F.  harneschier. 
Harneys,  n.,  armor,  gear.    O.  F. 

harneis. 

Harpe,  n.,  harp.     A.  S.  hearpe. 
Harpestringes,    n.,    plu.,    harp- 
strings.    A.  S.  hearpe — streng. 
Harpour,  n.,  harper.    A.  S.  hear- 

pere. 

Harre,  n.,  hinge.     A.  S.  heorra. 
Harrow,  interj.,  help!     alas!    O. 

F.  haro. 
Hasard,    n.,   dice-play,    hazard: 

the  name  of  a  game  played  with 

dice.     O.  F. 

Hasardour,  n.,  gamester.    A.  F. 
Hasardrye,  n.,  gaming,  playing 

hazard. 

Hasdrubales,  HasdrubaPs. 
Hasel,    n.,    hazel-tree.      A.    S. 

haesel. 


GLOSSARY  457 

Hasel-wode,      n.,      hazel-wood:  Helde,  v.,  bend,  incline,  pour.  A. 

i.  e.,  no  news,  a  popular  saying  S.  heldan.    Helde,  pret.  bent, 

expressive  of  incredulity.    A.S.  inclined,  poured. 

hsesel — wudu.  Hele,  n.,  health.     A.  S.  hgelu. 

Haste,  n.,  haste.     0.  F.  Hele,  v.,  conceal.     A.  S.  helan. 

Haste,  v.,  hasten.    0.  F.  hasten  Hele,  v.,  heal.    A.  S.  hselan. 

Hastif,  adj.,  hasty.     O.  F.  Heled,p.  p.,  concealed.  See  Hele. 

Hastilich,  adv.,  hastily.  Helelees,  adj.,  out  of  health. 

Hastow,  v.,   pron.,   second  pers.  Helle,  n.,  hell.     A.  S.  hell  /. 

sing.,  pres.  indie.,  hast  thou.  Helmed,  p.  p.,  furnished  with  a 

See  Han.  helm.     A.  S.  helmian. 

Hatte,  v.,   pret.;  pret.   as  pres.;  Helowys,  Heloise. 

see  Hote.  Helpe,  v.,  help.     A.  S.  helpan. 

Hauberk,  n.,  coat  of  mail.    0.  F.  Helply,  adj.,  helpful. 

hauberc.  Hem,  pron.,  ddt.  plu.,  them. 

Hauk,  n.,  hawk.     A.  S.  hafoc.  Hemi-spere,    n.,    hemisphere. 

Hauke,  v.,  hunt  with  a  hawk.  Hem-self,  pron.,  plu.,  themselves. 

Haunt,  n.,   use,   practice,   skill.  Hende,   adj.,    courteous,   polite. 

Haunte,  v.,  use,  practice,  resort  A.  S.  gehende. 

to.     O.  F.  hanter.  Heng,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  hung.     From 

Hauteyn,    adj.,    proud,    stately.  Hange.     A.  S.  hon;  hangian. 

O.  F.  haltain.  Henne,  adv.,  hence.    A.  S.  heo- 

Hawe,  n.,  yard,  enclosure;  fruit  nan. 

of  the  dog-rose,  haw.     A.  S.  Hennes,  n.,  plu.,  hens.     A.  S. 

haga.  henn  /. 

Hawethorn-leves,  n.,  plu.,  haw-  Hennes,  adv.,  hence. 

thorn-leaves.  ^.£.hagaporn —  Hennes-forth,   adv.,   henceforth. 

leaf.  Hente,    v.,    catch,    seize,    take. 

Hayles,   the   Abbey   of   Hailes,  A.  S.  hentan. 

Gloucestershire.  Hepe,    v.,    heap,    augment,    ac- 

Hebraik,  Hebrew.    See  Ebrayk.  cumulate.     A.  S.  heapian. 

Hed,  n.,  see  Heed.  Her,  pron.,  gen.  plu.,  their. 

Hede,  n.,  heed.  Heraud,  n.,  herald.    O.  F.  heraut. 

Hede,  v.,  head,  provide  with  a  Heraude,    v.,    herald,    proclaim. 

head.  O.  F.  herauder. 

Heed,  n.,  head.     A.  S.  heafod.  Herbe,  n.,  herb.     O.  F. 

Heep,  n.,  heap,  crowd,  throng.  Her-beforn,  adv.,  before  this.    A. 

A.  S.  heap.  S.  her— beforan. 

Heer,  n.,  hair.    A.  S.  hser.  Herber,  n.,  garden,  arbor.    0.  F. 

Heer,  adv.,  here.    A.  S.  her.  erbier. 

Heer-agayns,  adv.,  against  this,  Herbergage,  n.,  lodging,  abode. 

in  reply  to  this.    A.  S.  her—  0.  F. 

ongeanes.  Herberwe,  n.,   harbor,   lodging, 

Heer-tofore,  adv.,  hitherto.     A.  shelter.     O.  N.  herbergi. 

S.  her-to-fore.  Her-by,   adv.,    with   respect   to 

Heet,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Hote.  this   matter,    hence.       A.   S. 

Heeth,  n.,  heath.     A.  S.  hsetS.  her— bi. 

Hegge,  n.,  hedge.    A.  S.  hecg.  Herd,  p.  p.,  see  Here. 

Heigh,  adj.,  high,  lofty.     A.  S.  Herde,  n.,  shepherd,  herd,  keeper 

heah.    See  Heye,  Hy.  of  cattle.    A.S.  heorde. 

Heighe,  adv.,  high.  Herde,  v.,  pret.  see  Here. 

Heighly,  adv.,  strongly.     A.  S.  Herde-gromes,  n.,   plu.,   herds- 

healice.  men. 


458  GLOSSARY 

Here,  pron.,  her.     A.  S.  hiere,  Hethenesse,  n.,  heathen  lands. 

hire.  A.  S.  hsetSennes  /. 

Here,  v.,  hear.     A.  S.  hieran.  Hette,    v.,    pret.    sing.,    heated, 

Here,  adv.,  see  Heer.  inflamed.    From  Hete.    A.  S. 

Here  and  howne,  perhaps  gentle  haetan. 

and   savage:    i.    e.,    one   and  Heve,    v.,    heave,    lift.      A.    S. 

all.  hebban. 

Hereos,  n.:  according  to  Medieval  Heved,  n.,  see  Heed. 

science,   the  specific  name  for  Hevene,  n.,  heaven.     A.  S.  heo- 

a  malady  of  love.  fon. 

Herie,  v.,  praise,  worship.    A.  S.  Hevenish,  adj.,  heavenly. 

herian.  Hevenly,  adj.,  heavenly.     A.  S. 

Herines,  Erinyes:  the  Furies.  heofonlic. 

Herke,  v.,  hearken.  Hevinesse,  n.,  sorrow,  sadness. 

Herkne,  v.,  hearken,  listen.     A.  A.  S.  hefignes  /. 

S.  hercnian.  Hevy,  adj.,  heavy.    A.  S.  hefig. 

Hermes      Ballenus:      Hermes'  Hewe,     n.,     hue,     color,     com- 

Belinous — Hermes        Trisme-  plexion.  A.  S.  heow. 

gistus  was  the  fabled  founder  Hewed,  adj.,  colored,  hued. 

of  alchemy,  from  whom  a  certain  Heye,  adj.,  see  Heigh. 

Belinous     professed     to     have  Heyghe,  adv.,  see  Heighe. 

learned   the   art    of  talismans.  Heynous,  adj.,  heinous,  hateful. 

Belinous  so  far  has  not  been  0.  F.  heinos. 

satisfactorily  indentified.  Heyr,  n.,  heir.     O.  F.  heir. 

Hermyte,    n.,    hermit.      O.    F.  Heyre,  adj.,  made  of  hair.     Cf. 

hermite.  O.  F.  haire;  A.  S.  hser. 

Hemeys,  n.,  see  Harneys.  Heysugge,     n.,     hedge-sparrow. 

Herodes,  Herod.  A.  S.  heges-sugge. 

Heroun,  n.,  heron.    0.  F.  hairon.  Hider,  adv.,  hither.     A.  S. 

Hert,  n.,  hart.     A.  S.  heort.  Hidous,  adj.,  hideous.     O.  F. 

Herte,  n.,  heart.     A.  S.  heorte.  Hidously,    adv.,   hideously,    ter- 

Herte,    v.,    pret.,    hurt.      From  ribly. 

Hurte.    O.  F.  hurter.  Hierdes,  n.,  shepherdess,  female 

Herte-blood,   n.,   heart's  blood.  guardian. 

A.  S.  heorte — blod.  Hight,  p.  p.;  Highte,  v.,  pret.;  see 

Hertelees,  adj.,  heartless,  lack-  Hote. 

ing  in  courage.  Highte,  n.,  height.  A.  S.  heahtSu. 

Hertely,    adv.,    heartily,     thor-  Hil,  n.,  hill.     A.  S.  hyll. 

oughly.  Hild,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Helde. 

Herte-spoon,    n.,    the    concave  Hinde,  n.,  hind.     A.  S.  hind  /. 

part  of  the  breast,  the  breast  Hindreste,    adj.,    superl.,    hind- 
bone.     A.  S.  heorte — spon.  most. 

Hertly,  adj.,  hearty,  honest.  Hipes,  n.,  plu.,  hips.    A.  S.  hype. 

Heryinge,    s.,    praising,    glory.  Hir,  pron.,  her  (A.  S.  hiere, hire) ; 

See  Herie.  their  (A.  S.  hiera,  hira). 

Heste,    n.,    behest,    command-  Hires,  pron.,  hers. 

ment.     A.  S.  hses  /.  His,  pron.,  his;  its.     A.  S. 

Hester,  Esther.  Hit,  pron.,  it.     A.  S. 

Hete,  n.,  heat.     A.  S.  hseto.  Ho,    n.,    ho:    exclamation    com- 

Hete,  v.,  promise,  vow.     A.  S.  manding   silence;   stop,    cessa- 

hatan.    See  Hote.  tion. 

Hethen,  adj.,   heathen.      A.  S.  Hogges,  n.,  gen.  sing.,  hog's;  plu., 

haeSen.  hogs.     A.  S.  hogga. 


GLOSSARY  459 

Holde,  v.,  hold,  keep,  preserve,  Hose,  n.,  hose,  covering  for  the 

esteem,  consider.     A.  S.  heal-        feet  and  legs.     A.  S.  hose. 

dan.    Holde  in  honde,  delude  Host,  Hoste,  n.,  host  (of  an  inn), 

with  false  hopes,   cajole.  keeper  of  lodgings.    0.  F.  oste. 

Holm,  n.,  holm-oak.  Hostel,   n.,    hostelry.      0.   F. 

Holowe,  adj.,  see  Holwe.  Hostelrye,     n.,     hostelry,     inn. 
Holownesse,      n.,      hollowness,        0.  F.  hostelerie. 

concavity.  Hostiler,  n.,  hostler,  innkeeper. 
Holsom,  adj.,   wholesome,  heal-        O.  F.  hosteller. 

ing.     A.  S.  hal — sum.  Hote,  adv.,  hotly.    A.  S.  hate. 

Holt,  n.,  wood.     A.  S.  holt.  Hote,  v.,  command,  promise,  be 
Holwe,  adj.,  adv.,  hollow.    A.  S.          called,  be  named.  ^.*S.hatan. 

holh.  Hottes,  n.,  plu.,  baskets  carried 
Horn,  n.,  see  Hoom.  on  the  back.     0.  F.  hotte. 

Homicyde,  n.,  murderer;  murder.  Hound,  n.,  dog.    A.  S.  hund. 

F.  Houpe,  v.,  whoop.    0.  F.  houper. 

Hond,  n.,  hand.    A.  S.     Bereon  Houre,  n.,   hour.     O.   F.  hore. 

honde,    see  Bere.     Holde    in        Houre  inequal,  unequal  hour: 

honde,  see  Holde.  according  to  astrology  an  hour 

Honest,  adj.,  creditable,  honor-        formed   by   dividing   the   dura- 
able,  worthy.    0.  F.  honeste.        tion  of  the  daylight  by  twelve. 

Honestee,  n.,   honor,   goodness.  Hous,  n.,  house.    A.  S.  hus.    In 

0.  F.  honeste.  astronomy     and     astrology     a 

Honge,  v.,   hang,   vacillate,   de-        "housn   was  either  a  division 

pend.     A.  S.  hon;  hangian.  (a  twelfth)  of  the  whole  celestial 

Honurable,  adj.,  honorable.     F.        sphere,  or  any  of  the  zodiacal 

honorable.  signs  regarded  as  the  domain 

Hony,  n.,  honey.     A.  S.  hunig.          of  a  particular  planet. 

Hood,   n.,    hood.      A.   S.   hod.  Housbonde,  n.,  husband.    A.  S. 

Such  game  fonde  they  in  hir        husbonda. 

hode,  such  sport  they  found  Housbondrye,     n.,     husbandry, 

in  their  hoods:  i.  e.,  such  fun        economy. 

they  made  of  them.  Hove,  v.,  hover,  dwell,  wait. 

Hoodless,  adj.,  without  a  hood.  Howne,  see  Here  and  howne. 

Hool,  n.,  hole,     A.  S.  hoi.  Howve,  n.,  hood.     A.  S.  hufe. 

Hool,  adj.,   whole,   sound,   per-  Huberd,  Hubert. 

feet.    A.  S.  hal.  Hugh  of  Lincoln:  a  boy  supposed 
Hoolly,  adv.,  wholly.  to  have  been  murdered  by  the 

Hoom,  n.,  home.     A.  S.  ham.  Jews  at  Lincoln  in  1255. 

Hoomlinesse,     n.,     homeliness,  Humanitee,  n.,  humanity,  kind- 
domesticity,  ness.    F.  humanite. 

Hoomward,  adv.,  homeward.    A.  Humblely,  adv.,  humbly. 

S.  hamweard.  Humblesse,  n.,  humility,  meek- 
Hoor,  adj.,  hoary,  white-haired.        ness.    0.  F. 

A.  S.  har.  Humbling,    n.,    rumbling,     low 
Hoost,  n.,  army.    0.  F.  host.  growl. 

Hoot,  adj.,  hot.     A.  S.  hat.  Humilitee,  n.,  humility.     0.  F. 
Hope,  n.,  hope.     A.  S.  hopa.  humilite. 

Hoppe,  v.,  hop,  dance.     A.  S.  Humme,  v.,  hum. 

hoppian.  Humour,  n.,  humor.    A.  F. 

Hord,  n.,  hoard,  treasure.     A.  S.  Hunte,    n.,    hunter,    huntsman. 
Hors,  n.,  horse.    A.  S.  A.  S.  hunta. 

Hors,  adj.,  hoarse.     A.  S.  has.  Hunteresse,  n.,  female  hunter. 


460  GLOSSARY 

Hurtle,  v.,  push,  attack.  Infinit,  adj.,  infinite.    O.  F. 

Hust,  p.  p.,  hushed.  Infortune,  n.,  misfortune.     F. 

Hy,  adj.,  see  Heigh,  Heye.  Infortuned,     p.     p.,     ill-starred. 

Hyde,  v.,  hide.    A.  S.  hydan.  O.  F.  infortuner. 

Hye,  n.,  haste.  Inhelde,    v.,    pour    in,     infuse. 

Hye,  adv.,  high,  aloft.  See  Helde. 

Hye,    v.,    hie,    hasten.      A.    S.  Iniquitee,  n.,  iniquity,  injustice. 

higian.  O.  F.  iniquite. 

Hyer,  adj.,  compar.,  higher.    See  In-knette,    v.,    pret.    sing.,    knit 

Hy.  up,  drew  in.     A.  S.  in — cnyt- 

Hyest,  adj.,  supcrl.,  highest.    See  tan.    See  Knitte. 

Hy.  Inly,  adv.,  inwardly,  extremely, 

Hyne,  n.,  hind,  servant,  peasant.  wholly.    A.  S.  inllce. 

A.  S.  hina.  Inmid,  prep.,  into,  amid. 

Hyre,  n.,  hire,  meed,  payment.  Inmortal,  adj.,  immortal.    L.  im- 

A.  S.  hyr  /.  mortalis. 

Hyre,  v.,  hire.     A.  S.  hyrian.  Inne,  adv.,  in,  within.     A.  S. 

Hyve,  n.,  hive.     A.  S.  hyf  /.  Inned,    p.    p.,    housed,    lodged. 

A.  S.  innian. 

.  (the  vowel)  Intellect,    n.,    intelligence.      L. 

Ich,  pron.,  I.  intellectus. 

I-comen,  p.  p.,  come.  Invocacioun,  n.,  invocation.     O. 

Ignoraunce,   n.,    ignorance.     F.  F.  invocation. 

ignorance.  In-with,  adv.,  within,  in. 

I-graunted,  p.  p.,  granted.    See  Ipocrisye,  n.,  hyprocrisy.    0.  F. 

Graunte.  ypocrisie. 

Ilioun,  Dion:  the  Greek  name  for  Iren,  n.,  iron.    A.  S. 

Tioy,  but  occasionally  used  by  Isaude,  Iseult. 

Medieval  writers  to  refer  to  the  Isaye,  Isaiah. 

citadel  alone.  Isidis,  Isis. 

like,  adj.,   same,   very.     A.  S.  Isoude,  see  Isaude. 

ilca.  Itaile,  Itaille,  Italy. 

Ulusioun,  n.,  illusion.    0.  F.  illu-  Ivy-leef,    n.,    ivy    leaf.      A.   S. 

sion.  ifig — leaf. 
Imaginacioun,    n.,    imagination, 

fancy.    O.  F.  imagination.  *  </or  *)• 

Importable,    adj.,    unendurable.  lade,  n.,  jade,  worn-out  horse. 

O.  F.  lakke  Straw,  Jack  Straw:  leader 

Impressioun,  n.,  impression,  no-  of    the    London    uprisings    in 

tion.     F.  impression.  1381. 

In,   n.,    inn,    lodging,    dwelling.  lalous,  adj.,  jealous.     O.  F. 

A.  S.  lalousye,    n.,    jealousy.      O.    F. 

In  principio:  the  text  "In  prin-  jalousie. 

cipio  erat  verbum  "  (Johni,!),  lane,  n.,  a  small  coin  of  Genoa 

which   the   begging  friars  fre-  used  in  England.    O.  F.  janne. 

quently  used.  Jangle,  v.,  chatter,  prate.    0.  F. 

Inche,  n.,  inch.     A.  S.  ynce.  jangler. 

Inde,  India.  langler,   n.,    story-teller,   jester, 

Inequal,  adj.,  unequal.     L.  in-  babbler.     O.  F.  jangleor. 

asqualis.      Houre  inequal,  see  langleresse,   n.,    (female)    prat- 

Houre.  tier,  chatterbox.    0.  F. 

Infect,  adj.,  invalid,  of  no  effect.  langlerye,    n.,    chatter,    gossip. 

L.  infectus.  O.  F.  janglerie. 


GLOSSARY  461 

langles,  n.,   plu.,   idle  pratings,  Keep,  n.,   care,  heed,  notice. 

disputes.    O.  F.  jangle.  Kembe,  v.,  comb.    A .  S.  cemban. 

lape,  n.,  jest,   trick.  Kempe,  adj.,  shaggy,  rough, 

lape,  v.t  jest.  Ken,   n.,   kin,   kindred.     A.  S. 

lasprs,  n.,  jasper.    O.  F.  cynn.    See  Kinnes. 

leet,  n.,  jet.    O.  F.  jet.  Kene,    adj.,   keen,   eager,   bold, 

leremye,  Jeremiah.  A.  S.  cene. 

let,  n.,  fashion,  mode.     O.  F.  get.  Kenne,     v.,     perceive,     discern, 

lewerye,  Jewish  kingdom,  Jew-  A.  S.  cennan. 

ish  quarter.  Kepe,  v.,  keep,  take  care  of,  re- 

logelour,     n.,     juggler.      O.    F.  gard.     A.  S.  cepan. 

jogeler.  Keper,  n.,  keeper, 

lolif,  adj.,  jovial,  joyful,  merry.  Kerve,    v.,    carve,    cut.      A.   S. 

0.  F.  ceorfan. 

lolitee,  n.,  jollity,  sport,  merri-  Kerver,  n.,  carver. 

ment.    0.  F.  jolite.  Kerving-tolis,  n.,  plu.,  tools  to 

loly,  adj.,  jolly,  joyous,  merry.  cut  with.     — A.  S.  tol. 

0.  F.  joli.  Kesse,  v.,  kiss.     A.  S.  cyssan. 

lompre,  v.,  jumble.  Kevere,  v.,  cover,  recover.    O.  F. 

lonathas,  Jonathan.  covrir. 

lournee,  n.,  day's  work,   day's  Keye,  n.,  key.     A.  S.  caeg  /. 

march,  journey.    0.  F.  jornSe.  Kidde,  v.,  pret.,  see  Kythe. 

lovinian,    Jovinian.      See    Seint  Kinde,   n.,    nature,    kind,    race, 

Jerome.  bent.     A.    S.   cynd    (neuter); 

lowes,  n.,  plu.,  jaws.  gecynd  /. 

loye,  n.,  joy.    O.  F.  joie.  Kinde,  adj.,  kind,  natural.    A.  S. 

loynant,  pres.  partic.,  adjoining.  cynde. 

loyne,  v.,  join.     O.  F.  joindre.  Kindely,  Kindeliche  (weak),  adj., 

luge,  n.,  judge.    0.  F.  natural.    A.  S.  cyndelic. 

luge,  v.,  judge.    O.  F.  jugier.  Kindely,    Kindeliche,  adv.,  nat- 

lugement,     n.,     judgment,     de-  urally.     A.  S.  cyndelice. 

cision.    O.  F.  Kinnes,  n.,  gen.,  kind's,  A.  S. 

lugge,  v.,  see  luge.  cynn.    See  Ken. 

lulius,  Julius  Caesar.  Kinrede,   n.,    kindred,      family, 

luparte,    v.,    imperil,    endanger.  A.  S.  cynrseden. 

lupartye,     v.,     jeopardy,     peril,  Kirtel,  n.,  kirtle.     A.  S.  cyrtel. 

hazard.    O.  F.  jeu  parti.  Kitte,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  cut.    From 

lust,   adj.,   just,    exact,    correct.  Cutte. 

F.  juste.  Knakkes,  n.,  plu.,  tricks, 

luste,  v.,  just,  tourney.     0.  F.  Knarre,    n.,     knotted    thickset 

jouster.  fellow,  sturdy  churl, 

lustes,   n.,    plu.   as   sing.,   just,  Knarry,  adj.,  gnarled. 

tournament.     O.  F.  juste.  Knave,  n.,  boy,  servant-lad.     A. 

lustyce,     lustyse,     n.,     justice,  S.  cnafa.     Knave  child,  male 

judgment.    0.  F.  justice,  jus-  child. 

tise.  Knele,  v.,  kneel.     A.  S.  cneow- 

luwyse,    n.,    justice,    judgment,  lian. 

sentence.     O.  F.  juise.  Knette,   v.,    knit,    join.      A.   S. 

cnyttan. 

K  Knighthede,  n.,  knighthood. 

Kalendes,  n.,   plu.,   calends:  so  Knitte,  v.,  see  Knette. 

beginning,  A.S.  calend.  Knobbes,  n.,  plu.,  knobs. 

Karf,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Kerve.  Knok,  n.,  knock. 


462  GLOSSARY 

Knotte,  n.,  knot,  difficulty,  gist  Lasshe,  n.,  lash. 

of  a  tale.     A.  S.  cnotta.  Lat,  v.,  imper.,  see  Lete. 

Knotteles,  adj.,  without  a  knot.  Late,  adv.,  lately.    A.  S. 

Knotty,  adj.,  covered  with  knots.  Late,     v.,     let.      A.    S.    Isetan. 
Know,  n.,  knee.    A.  S.  cneow.  See  Lete. 

Knyf,  n.,  knife.    A.  S.  cnif.  Lathe,  n.,  barn.    O.  N.  hlaba. 

Konninge,  s.,  cunning,  skill.     A.  Latis,  n.,  lattice.    F.  lattis. 

S.  cunnan.  Latoun,    n.,    latten:  a   brasslike 
Kukkow,  n.,  see  Cukkow.  alloy.    0.  F.  laton. 

Kunninge,  s.,  see  Konninge.  Laude,  n.,  praise,  honor.    0.  F. 

Kyn,  n.,  plu.,  kine,  cows.  Laudomia,  Laodamia. 

Kynde,  n.,  see  Kinde.  Launce,   v.,   fling  oneself,    leap, 
Kyndely,  adj.,   see  Kindely.  prance.     0.  F.  lander. 

Kyte,  n.,  kite:  a  bird  of  the  hawk  Launde,     n.,     grassy     clearing, 

family.     A.  S.  cyta.  glade.     0.  F.  lande. 

Kythe,  v.,   show,   make  known.  Laure,  n.,  laurel-tree.     0.  F. 

A.  S.  cySan.  Laureat,  adj.,  laureate,  crowned 

with  laurel.     L.  laureatus. 

L  Laurer,   n.,    laurel-tree.     0.   F. 
Laas,  n.,  see  Las.  laurier. 

Lad,  p.  p.,  see  Lede.  Lauriol,    n.,    spurge-laurel.      F, 
Lade,    v.,    load,    cover.      A.   S.        laureole. 

hladan.  Lavyne,  Lavinia. 

Ladel,  n.,  ladle.     A.  S.  hlaedel.  Lawe,  n.,  law.     A.  S.  lagu. 

Lak,  n.,  want,  defect,  blame.  Laxatyf,  n.,  laxative.    F.  laxatif. 

Lakke,  v.,  find  fault  with,  dis-  Lay,  n.,  song,  lay.    O.  F.  lai. 

parage,  blame.  Lay,  n.,  law,  faith,  belief.    A.  F. 
Lamentacioun,  n.,  lamentation.        lei. 

F.  lamentation.  Layser,  n.,  leisure.    0.  F.  leisir. 
Lameth,  Lamech  (Genesis  iv  and        See  Leyser. 

v).  Lazar,  n.,  leper. 

Lamuel,  Lemuel,  the  King  (Pro-  Leche,  n.,  physician.    A.S.  laece. 

verbs  xxxi,  i).  Lechecraft,  n.,  art  of  medicine. 
Langage,  n.,  language.    F.  A.  S.  laececrseft. 

Languisshe,    v.,    languish,    fail.  Lecherye,    n.,    lechery.      0.    F. 

F.  languir.  lecherie. 

Lanterne,  n.,  lantern.    F.  Lechour,     n.,     lecher.       0.     F. 
Lapidaire,  n.,  lapidary:  a  treatise        lecheor. 

dealing  with  precious  stones.    F.  Lede,  v.,  lead.     A.  S.  Isedan. 

Lappe,  n.,  flap,  fold,  edge  of  a  Ledere,  n.,  leader. 

garment,     wrapper.       A.     S.  Leed,  n.,  lead.    A.  S.  lead. 

laeppa.  Leef,  adj.,  lief,  dear.    A.  S.  leof. 

Large,    adj.,    large,    wide,    free;  Leef,  n.,  leaf.     A.  S.  leaf. 

adv.,    widely,    freely.      0.    F.  Leef,  v.,  imper.,  see  Leve. 

At  thy  large,  at  large.  Leek,  n.,  leek.     A.  S.  leac. 

Largely,  adv.,  fully.  Leen,  v.,  imper,  see  Lene. 

Largesse,  n.,  liberality,  bounty.  Lees,  n.,  deceit,  fraud. 

0.  F.  Lees,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Lese. 

Larke,  n.,  lark.     A.  S.  lawerce.  Leeste,  adj.,  superl,  least.     A.S. 
Las,  n.,  lace,  snare,  band.    0.  F.  laesest. 

laz*  Leet,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Lete. 

Lasse,  adj.,  compar.,  less.    A.  S.  Legende,  n.,  legend.     O.  F. 

lassa.  Lekes,  n.,  plu.,  see  Leek. 


GLOSSARY  463 

Lemes,  n.,  plu.,  flames.     A.  S.  Leve,  v.,  believe.     A.  S.  lefan. 

leoma.  Leve,  v.,  allow.    A.  S.    lefan. 

Lene,   adj.,   lean,   thin.      A.  S-  Lever,     adj.,     compar.,     liefer, 

hlaene.  dearer. 

Lene,  v.,  lend,  give.     A.S.  Isenan.  Levest,    adj.,    superL,    dearest, 

Lenger,  adj.,  compar.,  longer.    A.  most  desirable. 

S.  lengra.  Lewed,  adj.,  ignorant,  unlearned, 

Lenger,    adv.,    compar.,    longer.  rude.     A.  S.  Isewed. 

Lengest,    adv.,    superL,    longest.  Lewedly,  adv.,  ignorantly,  simply. 

Lengthe,    n.,    length.      A.    S.  Lewednesse,   n.,   ignorance,   ig- 

leng<5  /.  norant  behavior. 

Lente,  n.,  Lent.    A.  S.  lencten.  Ley,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Lye. 

Leoun,  n.,  lion.     F.  lion.  Leye,  y.,  lay,  lay  a  wager.    A.  S. 

Lepart,  n.,  leopard.     0.  F.  lie-  lecgan. 

part.  Leyser,  n.,  see  Layser. 

Lepe,  v.,  leap,  run.    A.  S.  hlea-  Libertee,  n.,  liberty.    F.  liberte. 

pan.  Libye,  Lybia. 

Lepe:  a  town  in  Spain.  Licentiat,  adj.,  one  licensed  by 

Lere,  v.,   teach,   learn.     A.    S.  the  Pope  to  hear  confessions 

Iseran.  and  administer  penance  in  all 

Lered,    adj.,    learned.      A.    S.  places,   independently  of  the 

Isered.    '  local  authorities.    L.  L. 

Lerne,  v.,  learn.    A.  S.  leornian.  Liche,  adv.,  alike.    A.  S.  gelice. 

Lese,  n.,  pasture.     A.  S.  labs  f.  Liche-wake,    n.,  watch  over    a 

Lese,  v.,  lose.     A.  S.  leosan.  corpse.     A.  S.  lie — wacu. 

Lesinge,  n.,  falsehood,  lie.     A.  Licour,     n.,     moisture,     liquor, 

S.  leasung/.  juice.    O.  F.  licur. 

Lesse,  adj.,  compar.,  see  Lasse.  Lief,  adj.,  see  Leef. 

Lessoun,  n.,  lesson.     F.  lecon.  Lige,  adj.,  liege.     0.  F.  liege. 

Lest,    n.,    pleasure,    desire,    in-  Ligge,    v.,    lie,    recline,    remain. 

clination.  A.S.  lyst.   See  List,  A.  S.  licgan. 

Lust.  Lighte,   v.,    to   make   light,    re- 

Lest,    v.,    pres.    sing.,    impers.,  joice,    to   feel    light,    to  illu- 

pleases;    Leste,    pres.    subj.,  minate.     A.  S.  Hhtan. 

E  lease.    A.S.lysten.   See  List,  Lighte,  v.,  alight.     A.  S.  lihtan. 

uste.  Lighter,     adv.,     compar.,     more 

Leste,  adj.,  superL,  see  Leeste.  readily. 

Let,  v.,  pres.  sing.;  p.  p.;  see  Lette.  Lightles,  adj.,  deprived  of  light. 

Lete,  Lethe.  Lightnesse,  n.,  lightness,  bright- 

Lete,  v.,  let,  leave,  forsake,  per-  ness. 

mit.    A.  S.  Isetan.     Let  calle,  Ligne   aloes,   n.,   wood   of   the 

cause  to  be  called.  aloe.     O.  F.  lignaloes. 

Lette,  n.,  hindrance,   delay.  Ligurge,  Lycurgus. 

Lette,  v.,  hinder,  prevent,  thwart.  Likerous,  adj.,   lecherous,   wan- 

A.  S.  lettan.  ton. 

Lettow,  Lithuania.  Lilie,  n.,  lily.    A.  S. 

Lettre,  n.,  letter.    0.  F.  letre.  Lilting-hora,    n.,    horn    to    be 

Letuarie,  n.,  electuary,  remedy.  played  for  a  lilt.    — A.S.  horn. 

0.  F.  letuaire.  Lim,  n.,  limb.     A.  S.  lim. 

Leve,  n.,  leave,  permission.     A.  Limitour,    n.,    limiter:    a   friar 

S.  leaf  /.-  licensed  to  beg  for  alms  within 

Leve,   v.,   leave,    forsake,    leave  certain  bounds. 

off.     A.  S,  Isefan.  Limmes,  n.,  plu.,  see  Lim. 


464  GLOSSARY 

Linage,  n.,   lineage,   race,   fam-  "Troiani      belli      scriptorem, 

ily.    F.  lignage.  maxime  Lolli, 

Lind,  n.,  lime-tree.     A.  S.  lind.  Dum     tu     declamas    Romae, 

Linian,    Giovanni    di    Lignano:  Prseneste  relegi." 

Professor    of    Canon    Law    at  Lond,  n.,  land.     A.  S. 

Bologna  in  1363,  died  in  1 383.  Longe,  adj.,  long,   tall.     A.  S. 

Lippe,  n.,  lip.     A.  S.  lippa.  lang. 

Lipse,  v.,  lisp.  Longe,    adv.,    long,    for    a   long 

Lisse,  n.,   comfort,  joy,  solace.  time.    A.  S.  lange. 

A.  S.  liss  /.  Longe,  v.,  desire,  long  for.    A.  S. 

Lisse,  t'.,  alleviate,  soothe.    A.  S.  langian. 

lissian.  Longe,  v.,  belong,  befit,  concern. 

List,  n.,  pleasure,  will.    A.£.lyst.  Loos,  n.,  praise,  renown.    O.  F. 

See  Lest,  Lust.  los. 

List,  n.,  ear.     A.  S.  hlyst.  Loos,  adj.,  loose. 

List,    v.,     pres.    sing.,    impers.,  Looth,  adj. ,  loath,  odious.    A.  S. 

pleases.      Liste,    pret.    sing.;  laS. 

subj.    A.  S.  lystan.    See  Lest.  Looth,  adv.,  with  dislike. 

Luste.  Lordings,  n.,  plu.,  sirs. 

Listes,  n.,   plu.,   lists,   place  of  Lordshipe,    n.,    lordship,    rank, 

tournament.  authority.    A.  S.  hlafordscipe. 
Litarge,    n.,    litharge:    ointment  Lore,    n.,     lore,     teaching,     in- 
prepared    from     protoxide     of  struction.     A.  S.  lar  /. 

lead.    F.  litharge.  Lore,    Loren,    Lorn,    p.    p.,    see 

Lite,  adj.,  see  Lyte.  Lese. 

Lith,  n.,  limb.    A.  S.  lift.  Los,  n.,  loss.    A.  S. 

Liveree,  n.,  livery.     F.  livree.  Losenges,     n.,     plu.,     lozenges: 

Lodemenage,  n.,  pilotage.  small  diamond-shaped  shields. 

Lode-sterre,  n.,  lodestar,  polar  F.  losange. 

star.    A.  S.  lad/. — steorra.  Losengour,  n.,  flatterer.     0.  F. 

Lofte,  n.,  dat.,  loft,  upper  room.  losengeur. 

Cf.  O.  N.  lopt.     On  lofte,  in  Loses,  n.,  plu.,  see  Loos. 

the  air.  Loth,  Lot. 

Logge,   n.,   lodge,   resting-place.  Loth,  adj.,  see  Looth. 

0.  F.  loge.  Lothest,  adj.,  superl.,  see  Looth. 

Logging,  n.,  lodging.  Loude,  adv.,  loudly.    .4.£.hlude. 

Logik,  n.,  logic.     F.  logique.  Lough,   v.,   pret.   sing.,   laughed. 

Loke,  v.,  weak,  lock  up.  FrowLaughe.    A.S.  hliehhan. 

Loke,  v.,  look,  discern.     A.  S.  Lous,  adj.,   see  Loos  adj. 

locian.  Loute,  v.,  bow,  stoop,  do  obei- 

Loken,  p.  p.,  locked  up.     From  sance.     A.  S.  lutan. 

Louke.     A.  S.  lucan.  Lovedayes,    n.,    plu.,    days    for 

Loking,  n.,  look,  gaze.  settling   disputes   by    arbitra- 

Lokkes,  n.,  locks  of  hair.    A.  S.  tion. 

locc.  Loveknotte,  n.,  love-knot.    A.  S. 

Lollius:  a  name  which  Chaucer  lufu — cnotta. 

seems  to  have  taken  as  that  of  a  Lovere,  n.,  lover. 

writer    of    a     Trojan    history.  Lowe,   adj.,   low,   humble;   adv., 

No  such   writer  is   known   to  low,  humbly. 

have  existed;  but  perhaps   the  Luce,  n.,  luce,  pike.     O.  F.  luz. 

idea   arose  from    a  misunder-  Lucina:   a  name  of  Diana;  the 

standing      of     the     lines      in  moon. 

Horace:  Lucye,  Lucia. 


GLOSSARY 


465 


Lufsom,    adj.,    lovely,    lovable. 

A,  S.  lufsum. 
Lulle,  v.,  lull,  soothe. 
Lust,   n.,   pleasure,    amusement, 

desire.     A  .  S.    See  Lest,  List. 
Luste,  v.,  please.     A.  S.  lystan. 

See  Lest,  List. 
Lustihede,    n.,    delight,    enjoy- 

ment. 

Lustily,  adv.,  gaily,  merrily. 
Liistinesse,  n.,  pleasure,  jollity. 
Lusty,  adj.,  pleasant,  gay. 
Luxurie,  n.,  lechery.     O.  F. 
Lyde,  Lydia. 
Lye,   n.,   lie,    falsehood.      A.  S. 


Lye,    v.,     lie,     recline,     remain. 

A.  S.  licgan.     See  Ligge. 
Lye,  v.,  tell  lies,  lie.    A.  S.  leogan. 
Lyere,  71.,  liar. 
Lyes,  n.,  plu.,  lees,   dregs.     F. 

lie. 
Lyeys,  formerly  Layas,  now  Ayas, 

in  Armenia. 
Lyf,  n.,  life.     A.  S.  lif. 
Lyfly,    adv.,    in    a   lifelike   way. 

A.  S.  liflic. 

Lyk,  adj.,  like.     A.  S.  gelice. 
Lyke,  v.,  impers.,  please.     A.  S. 
•    lician. 

Lyklihede,  n.,  likelihood. 
Lyklinesse,    n.,    probability. 
Lykly,  adj.,   likely. 
Lykne,  v.,  liken,  compare. 
Lyknesse,   n.,    parable.      A.   S. 

gelicnes  /. 
Lyma,  Lima  :  an  error  for  Livia,  who 

poisoned  her  husband  Drusus  at 

the  instigation  of  Sejanus. 
Lyme,  v.,  cover  with  birdlime. 
Lymere,    n.,    bitch-hound    held 

in  leash.     0.  F.  limiere. 
Lymote,     possibly     Elymas     the 

sorcerer  (Acts  xiii,  8}. 
Lyne,  n.,  line.     A.  S.  line. 
Lyned,  p.  p.,  lined. 
Lyoun,  n.,  see  Leoun. 
Lystow,    v.,    pron.,    second   pers. 

sing.,  pres.  indie.,  see  Lye. 
Lytargye,   n.,   lethargy.      0.   F. 

litargie. 
Lyte,   Lytel,   adj.,    little,    small. 

A.  S.  lytel. 


Lyte,  adv.,  little.     A.  S.  lytel. 
Lyth,  v.,  third  pers.  sing.,  pres. 

indie.,  see  Lye. 
Lythe,  adj.,   easy,   soft.     A.  S. 

litSe. 
Lythe,  v.,  alleviate,  cheer.    A.  S. 

liSian. 

Lyve,  n.,  dat.,  see  Lyf. 
Lyyes,  n.,  gen.,  see  Lyf.    As  adv., 

in  life,  living. 

M 

Maad,  p.  p.,  see  Make. 

Maat,  adj.,  dejected,  exhausted, 
defeated,  checkmate.  O.  F. 
mat. 

Macedo,  the  Macedonian. 

Macrobie,  Macrobius:  Roman 
writer  (fl.  c.  400  A.  D.),  author 
of  a  commentary  on  the  Som- 
nium  Scipionis  from  the  De 
Republica  of  Cicero.  In  the 
Somnium  Scipionis  Scipio 
Africanus  Minor  dreams  that 
his  grandfather  shows  him  the 
universe  and  tells  him  how  it 
is  constituted.  Macrobius  was 
generally  thought  to  be  the  author 
of  the  vision  as  well  as  of  the  com- 
mentary. 

Madde,  v.,  go  mad,  be  furious. 

Magicien,  n.,  magician.      F. 

Magik,  Magyk,  n.,  magic.  O.  F. 
magique. 

Maille,  n.,  mail,  ringed  armor. 
F. 

Maister,  n.,  master.  0.  F. 
maistre. 

Maisterful,  adj.,  masterful. 

Maister-strete,  n.,  main  street. 
O.  F.  maistre— A.  S.  strset/. 

Maistow,  v.,  pron.,  second  pers. 
sing.,  pres.  indie.,  mayest  thou. 
See  Mowe. 

Maistresse,  n.,  mistress.     O.  F. 

Maistrye,  n.,  mastery,  great 
skill,  control,  superiority.  0. 
F.  maistrie. 

Make,  n.,  mate,  equal.  A.  S. 
maca. 

Make,  v.,  make,  compose,  cause, 
write.  A.  S.  macian. 

Makelees,  adj.,  peerless. 


466  GLOSSARY 

Making,  s.,  composition.     A.  S.  the  name  in  Dante,  and  took  it 

macian.  to  be  feminine. 

Maladye,  n.,  malady.  F.maladie.  Marcial,  adj.,  pertaining  to  war, 

Malapert,  adj.,  forward.     O.  F.  warlike.     F.  martial. 

Male,  n.,  bag,  wallet.     O.  F.  Marcian,     Martianus     Capella: 

Malencolye,  n.,  see  Melancolye.  a  satirist  of  the  fifth  century 

Malencolyk,    adj.,    melancholy.  A.  D.  who  wrote  the  De  Nup- 

See  Col  era.  tiis  inter  Mercurium  et  Philo- 

Malle,  Moll.  logiam,  a  treatise  on  the  Seven 

Malt,    v.,    pret.    sing.,    melted.  Liberal  Arts  with  an  allegorical 

From  Melte.     A.  S.  meltan.  setting. 

Manace,     n.,     menace,     threat.  Manage,  n.,  marriage.     F. 

F.  menace.  Maried,  v.,  pret.,  caused  to  be 

Manace,    v.,    threaten.     O.    F.  married.      From    Marie.      F. 

menacier.  marier. 

Maner,    n.,    manor,     place    to  Mark,    n.,    mark,    image,    race. 

dwell  in.    O.  F.  manoir.  A.  S.  mearc. 

Maner,  n.,  see  Manere.  Mark,  n.,  mark:  piece  of  money, 

Manere,    n.,    manner,    method,  of  the  value  of  jjs.  40*.     A.  S. 

way.     A.   F.      Maner,   kind,  marc. 

sort    (often    used    without    of  Markis,  n.,  marquis.     O.  F. 

following,  as  in  maner  wight).  Markisesse,  n.,  marchioness. 

Manes:  shades  of  the  dead.     The  Marte,  Mars. 

idea  that  they  are  the  'gods  of  Martir,  n.,  martyr.    A.  S.  martyr. 

pain1  is  borrowed  from  Virgil,  Martirdom,  n.,  martyrdom.     A. 

^neid  vi,  743.  S.  martyr— dom. 

Manhede,  n.,  manhood.  Martyre,  n.,  martyrdom.    O.  F. 

Mankynde,    n.,    mankind.     See  martire. 

Kynde.  Mary,  n.,  marrow,  pith.     A.  S. 

Manly,  adv.,  in  a  manly  way.  mearg. 

Mannes,  n.,  gen..,  man's.     A.  S.  Mary-bones,  n.,   plu.,   marrow- 
man,  bones.     A.  S.  mearg — ban. 
Mansioun,     n.,     dwelling,     (as-  Mase,  n.,  maze,   bewilderment. 

trologicatty)  the  position  of  a  Mased,      p.      p.,      bewildered, 

planet    (see    Hous).      O.    F.  stunned. 

mansion.  Masednesse,  n.,  amaze. 

Manslaughtre,  n.,  manslaughter.  Masoneries,  n.,  plu.,  masonry. 

Mansuete,  adj.,   courteous.     L.  F.  maconnerie. 

mansuetus.  Masse,  n.,  mass,  liturgy  of  the 

Mantel,  n.,  mantle,  cloak.    0.  F.  Eucharist.     A.  S.  msesse. 

Mantelet,  n.,  short  mantle.     F.  Massedayes,  n.,  plu.,  massdays. 

Manye,  n.,  mania.    F.  manie.  A.  S.  maessedaeg.  ' 

Mapul,  n.,  maple.    A.  S.  mapul-  Massinisse,  Masinissa:  King  of 

( treow) .  Numidia. 

Marbel,  n.,  marble.  O.F.  marble.  Masty,  adj.,  fattened  (on  mast). 

Marbul-stones,  n.,  plu.,  blocks  Mat,  adj.,  see  Maat. 

of  marble.     O.   F.   marble —  Matere,  n.,  matter,  affair,  sub- 

A.  S.  stan.  ject.    O.  F. 

Marchant,  n.,  merchant.    O.  F.  Maudelayne,  (St.)  Magdalen. 

Marcia,  Marsyas:  the  satyr  whom  Maugre,     Maugree,     prep.,     in 

Apollo  defeated  in  a   trial  of  spite  of.    O.  F.  maugre. 

musical    skill,   and   afterwards  Maunciple,     n.,     manciple:     an 

flayed   alive.      Chaucer  found  oflicer  who  purchased  victuals 


GLOSSARY 


467 


for  an  inn  or  college.     O.  F. 

manciple. 

May,  n.,  maiden.     A.  S.  maeg. 
Mayde,      Mayden,     n.,     maid, 

maiden.     A.  S.  msegden. 
Maydenhede,    n.,    maidenhood, 

virginity. 

Mayle,  n.,  see  Maille. 
Mayntene,     v.,     maintain.       F. 

maintenir. 

Mayster-hunte,  n.,  chief  hunts- 
man.    O.  F.  maistre — A.  S. 

hunta. 
Maystow,  v.,  pron.,  second  pers. 

sing.,  pres.  indie.,  mayest  thou. 

See  Mowe. 
Mede,  n.,  mead,  meadow.    A.  S. 

msed  /. 
Mede,  n.,  meed,  reward,  bribe. 

A.  S.  med  /. 
Medle,  v.,  mingle,  mix.     O.  F. 

medler. 
Medlee,     adj.,     medley,     of     a 

mixed  color.    0.  F. 
Meel,  n.,  meal.     A.  S.  msel. 
Meel-tyde,  n.,  meal-time.    A.  S. 

msel— tid  /. 
Meeth,  n.,  see  Meth. 
Megera,    Megsera:    one    of   the 

Furies. 

Meke,  adj.,  meek. 
Mekely,  adv.,  meekly. 
Meknesse,  n.,  meekness. 
Melancolious,  adj.,  melancholy. 

O.  F.  melancolieus.    See  Mel- 

ancolye. 
Melancolye,  n.,  melancholy.    0. 

F.  melancolie.    See  Colera. 
Melodye,    n.,    melody.      0.    F. 

melodic. 

Membre,  n.,  limb,  member.     F. 
Memoire,   Memorie,  n.,   mem- 
ory, remembrance,  conscious- 
ness.   O.  F. 
Mencioun,  n.,  mention.     0.  F. 

mention. 

Mene,  adj.,   mean,   middle,   in- 
termediate.   0.  F.  meiien. 
Mene,  n.,  means,  intermediary, 

middle   course,    way.      0.    F. 

meiien. 
Mene,    v.,    mean,    say,    signify. 

A.  S.  maenan. 


Mennes,  n.,  plu.,  gen.,  men's. 
A.  S.  man. 

Menstralcyes,  n.,  plu.,  min- 
strelsies. A.  F.  menestralsie. 

Mente,  v.,  pret.  see  Mene. 

Mercenarie,  n.,  hireling.  L. 
mercenarius. 

Mercenrike,  the  kingdom  of 
Mercia. 

Merciable,  adj.,  merciful.    O.  F. 

Mercy,  n.,  mercy.  O.  F.  merci. 
Graunt  mercy,  see  Graunt. 

Mere,  n.,  mare.    A.  S.  mere. 

Meriely,  adv.,  merrily. 

Merlioun,  n.,  merlin,  small  hawk. 
O.  F.  esmerillon. 

Mermayde,  n.,  mermaid.  A.  S. 
mere — maegden. 

Mervaille,  Mervayle,  Merveille, 
n.,  marvel.  O.  F.  merveille. 

Merveillous,  adj.,  marvelous.  O. 
F.  merveillos. 

Merye,  adj.,  merry,  gay,  glad. 
A.  S.  mirige. 

Meryte,  n.,  merit,  desert.    0.  F. 

Meschaunce,  n.,  mischance,  mis- 
fortune. O.  F.  mescheance. 
With  meschaunce,  with  bad 
luck  (often  as  a  curse:  bad 
luck  take  him!) 

Meschief,  n.,  mischief,  mis- 
fortune, trouble.  0.  F. 

Message,  n.,  message,  errand; 
messenger.  0.  F. 

Messager,  n.,  messenger.  O.  F. 
messagier. 

Messagerye,  n.,  the  sending  of 
messages.  O.  F.  messagerie. 

Messe-dayes,  n.,  see  Masse- 
dayes. 

Messenus,  Misenus:  companion 
and  trumpeter  to  jEneas. 

Meste,  adj.,  superl.,  most.  A. 
S.  maest. 

M ester,  n.,  see  Mister. 

Mesurable,  adj.,  moderate.   0.  F. 

Mesure,  n.,  moderation,  meas- 
ure. O.  F. 

Met,  v.,  third,  pers.  sing.,  pres. 
indie.,  see  Mete. 

Mete,  adj.,  meet,  fitting,  suit- 
able, equal.  A.  S.  maete. 

Mete,  n.,  meat,  food.   A.  S.mete. 


468  GLOSSARY 

Mete,  v.,  meet.     A.  S.  metan.  Misericorde,    n.,    mercy,    pity. 

Mete,  v.,  dream.    A.  S.  msetan.  O.  F. 

Meth,  n.,  mead:  the  drink.     A.  Miserie,  n.,  misery.    O.  F. 

S.  meodu;  0.  N.  migSr.  Misfille,    v.,    pret.,   went   amiss. 

Meting,  «.,  dream.     See  Mete.  From  Misfalle.     A.  S.  mis— 

The  kinges  meting  Pharao,  the  f  eallan. 

dream  of  King  Pharaoh.  Misforyaf,   v.,    pret.   sing.,   mis- 

Mette,  v.,  pret.  see  Mete.  gave.     From  Misforyive.    See 

Meve,    v.,    move,    stir.      0.    F.  Yive. 

movoir.  Mishappe,  v.,  happen  ill,  meet 

Mewe,  n.,  mew:  coop  used  for  fat-  with  misfortune. 

tening  fowls  or  for  hawks  while  Mislyved,  p.  p.,  of  ill  life.    A.  S. 

molting.    F.  mue.  mis — libban. 

Mewet,  adj.,  mute.    0.  F.  muet.  Mis-sat,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  was  not 

Meynee,  n.,  household,  retinue,  where  it  should  be,  misbecame. 

company.     O.  F.  meisnee.  From  Mis-sitte.    See  Sitte. 

Michelmesse,  Michaelmas:  feast  Misse,  v.,  miss,  fail,  lack.    A.  S. 

of  St.  Michael,  the  2pth  of  Sep-  missan. 

tember.  Mistake,  v.,  transgress,  trespass, 

Middelburgh,  Middelburg  in  Hoi-  commit    an    error.       0.     N. 

land.  mistaka. 

Might,  n.,  might,  power.     A.  S.  Mister,    n.,    trade,    handicraft, 

miht.  occupation.      O.    F.    mester. 

Mighte,  v.t  pret.,  see  Mowe.  See  Mester.  What  mister  men, 

Mille,  n.,  mill.     A.  S.  mylen.  what    sort    of  men    (of   what 

Millere,  n.,  miller.  trade). 

Minde,  n.,  remembrance,  mem-  Mistriste,  v.,  mistrust. 

pry,  mind.     A.  S.  gemynd  /.  Miswent,    p.    p.,    gone    amiss. 

Ministres,  n.,  plu.,  officers.     F.  From  Miswende.    A.  S.  mis — 

ministre.  wendan. 

Minne,    v.,    imper.     sing.,    re-  Miteyn,  n.,   mitten,   glove.     F. 

member,     mention.       A.     S.  mitaine. 

gemynnan.  Mo,  adj.,  compar.,  more,  others. 

Minstralcye,  n.,  minstrelsy.    See  A.  S.  ma. 

Menstralcyes.  Mo,  adv.,  compar.,  more,  longer. 

Mirour,  n.,  mirror.    O.  F.  A.  S.  ma. 

Mirre,  n.,  myrrh.    O.  F.  Moche,     Mochel,     adj.,     much, 

Mirthe,  n.,  mirth,  pleasure,  joy.  great.      A.    S.    xnycel.      See 

A.  S.  myths  /.  Muchel. 

Mirtheles,  adj.,  without  mirth,  Mochel,  adv.,  much. 

sad.  Mochel,  n.,  size. 

Mis,   adj.,   adv.,   wrong,    amiss.  Moder,  n.,  mother.    A.S.  modor. 

Misacounted,  p.  p.,  miscounted.  Moeble,     n.,     movable     goods, 

Misaunter,n.,  misadventure,  mis-  personal     property.       O.     F. 

fortune.   0.  F.  mesavenrure.  Moever,  n.,  mover. 

Misboden,  p.  p.,  offered  to  do  Moiste,  adj.,  moist,  supple.     O. 

evil,    insulted.      A.    S.    mis-  F.    See  Moyste. 

beodan.  Molte,    p.    p.,    molten,    melted. 

Miscarie,  v.,   go  amiss.     O.  F.  From.  Melte.     A.  S.  meltan. 

mes — carter.  Monche,  v.,  munch. 

Mischaunce,  n.,  see  Meschaunce.  Mone,  n.,  moon.     A.  S.  mona. 

Misdeme,  v.,  misjudge.     A.  S.  Mone,  n.,  moan,  complaint. 

mis — demon.  Monesteo,  Mnestheus. 


GLOSSARY  469 

Moneye,    n.,    money.      O.    F.  Moustre,  n.,  pattern.     O.  F. 

moneie.  Mowe,    n.,    grimace.       O.    F. 

Monstre,  n.,  monster.    F.  moe. 

Month,  n.,  month.    A.S.  monacS.  Mowe,  v.,  be  able,  may.    A.  S. 

Mooder,  n.,  see  Moder.  magan. 

Moorninge,  s.,  mourning,  plaint.  Moyste,  adj.,  moist,  fresh.     O. 

A.  S.  murnan.  F.  moiste.   See  Moiste. 

Moot,  n.,  plu.,  notes  on  a  horn.  Muchel, adj.,  much,  great.    A.S. 

O.  F.  mot.  mycel.     See  Moche,  Mochel. 

Moot,  v.,  pres.  sing.,  may,  must,  Muchel,  adv.,  greatly. 

shall.     A.  S.  mot.  Multiplicacioun,   n.,   multiplica- 

Moralitee,  n.,   morality,  moral.  tion,    multiplying:    the   art   of 

F.  moralite.  alchemy.     F.  multiplication. 

Mordre,    n.,    murder.      A.    S.  Multiplying,    s.,     increase.      F. 

mortSor;  O.  F.  murdre.  multiplier. 

Mordre,    v.,    murder.       A.    S.  Murmour,  n.,  murmur.    F.  mur- 

myrt>rian;  cf.  M.  E.  n.  mordre.  mure. 

Mordrer,     n.,     murderer.       Cf.  Murthe,  n.,  see  Mirthe. 

M.  E.  n.  mordre;  A.  F.  mor-  Murye,  adj.,  see  Merye. 

dreour.  Muse,  v.,  consider,  gaze.    O.  F. 

More,    adj.,    compar.,    greater,  muser. 

larger,  more.     A.  S.  mara.  Musyke,  n.,  music.    F.  musique. 

More,  adv.,  more,  further.  Muwe,  n.,  see  Mewe. 

More,  n.,  root.     A.  S.  moru.  Muwe,  v.,  change.    O.  F.  muer. 

Mormal,  n.,  sore,  ulcer.     O.  F.  Myle,  n.,  mile.     A.  S.  mil_/. 

mortmal.  Myn,  pron.,  mine.    A.  S.  mm. 

Morne,    n.,    morning.      A.    S.  Mynde,  n.,  see  Minde. 

morgen.     Morne-milk,  morn-  Myne,     v.,     undermine,     mine. 

ing  milk.  F.  miner. 

Morter,  n.,  mortar,  night-light.  Mynos,  Minos. 

A.  S.  mortere.  Myre,  n.,  mire.     0.  N.  myrr /. 

Mortreux,n.,  pottage,  thick  soup.  Myrie,  adj.,  see  Merye. 

O.  F.  Myrra,  Myrrha:  daughter  of  the 

Morwe,   Morwen,  n.,   morning,  King    of    Cyprus,    who    was 

morrow.     A .  S.   morgen.  changed  into  a  myrrh-tree,  Ovid, 

Morweninge,  n.,   morning.  Metam.,  x,  208. 

Morwe-song,  n.,   morning-song.  Myselven,  pron.,  myself. 

A.  S.  morgen — song.  Myte,  n.,  mite,  thing  of  no  value. 

Morwe-tyde,  n.,  morning  hour.  O.  F.  mite. 

A.  S.  morgen — tid  /.  Myte,  n.,   mite:  insect.     A.  S. 

Mosel,  n.,  muzzle.    O.  F.  musel.  mite. 
Moste,  v.,  pret.,  see  Moot. 

Moste,    adv.,    superl.,    greatest.  ™ 

A.  S.  msest.    See  Mo.  Nabugodonosor,     Nebuchadnez- 

Mot,  n.,  atom,  particle.    A.  S.  zar. 

Mottelee,    n.,    motley,    motley  Nacheveth,        ne  —  acheveth, 

array.  achieves  not.    — 0.  F.  achever. 

Motthes,  n.,  plu.,  moths.    A.  S.  Naciouns,  n.,  plu.,  nations.     F. 

moJ?J?e.  nation. 

Mountance,     Mountaunce,     n.,  Naille,  v.,  nail.     A.S.  naeglan. 

amount,  value,  quantity.     0.  Nakednesse,  n.,  nakedness. 

F.  montance.  Nakers,  n.,   plu.,   kettle-drums. 

Mous,  n.,  mouse.    A.  S.  mus.  O.  F.  nacre. 


470  GLOSSARY 

Name,    n.,    name,    reputation,  Negh,   Neigh,   adv.,   nearly,   al- 

fame.     A.  S.  nama.  most.    A.  S.  neah. 

Namely,  adv.,  especially.  Neighe,  v.,  draw  near. 

Namo,  na— mo,  adv.,   no  more.  Neighebour,  n.,  neighbour.     A. 

See  Mo.  S.  neahgebur. 

Namore,    adv.,    no    more.      See  Nekke,  n.,  neck.    A.  S.  hnecca. 

More.  Nekke-boon,  n.,  neck-bone.     A. 

Napoplexye,  ne — apoplexye,  nor  S.  hnecca — ban. 

apoplexy.    — F.  apoplexie.  Nempne,  v.,  name,  tell.     A.  S. 

Narette,  ne — arette,  see  Arette.  nemnan. 

Narwe,  adj.,  narrow,  close.     A.  Ner,  adv.,  compar.,  see  Neer. 

S.  nearu.  Nercotikes,    n.,    plu.,    narcotics. 

Narwe,  adv.,   narrowly,  closely.  F.  narcotique. 

A.  S.  nearwe.  Nere,  ne — were. 

Nas,  ne — was.  Nerf,  n.,  sinew.     0.  F. 

Nassayeth,     ne — assayeth,     at-  Nevene,  v.,  name.   O.  N.  nefna. 

tempts  not.    — 0.  F.  essaier.  Nevere,    adv.,    never.      A.    S. 

Nat,  adv.,  not.  nsefre. 

Natal,    adj.,    one   who   presides  Nevere-a-del,  adv.,  not  a  bit. 

over    nativities.      L.    natalis.  Nevere-mo,  adv.,  never  oftener, 

Nath,  ne — hath.  never,  never  again. 

Nathelees,  adv.,  nevertheless.  Nevere-the-lasse,    adv.,    never- 

Nativitee,    n.,    nativity,    birth.  theless. 

0.  F.  nativite.  Nevew,   n.,   nephew,    grandson. 

Naturel,  adj.,   natural.      0.    F.  A.  F.  nevu. 

Natyf,  adj.,  native.    0.  F.  natif.  Newe,  adj.,  new,  fresh.     A.  S. 

Navele,  n.,  navel.    A.  S.  nafela.  neowe. 

Navye,  n.,  navy.     0.  F.  navie.  Newe,  adv.,  newly,  freshly.     A. 

Naxe,  ne — axe,  see  Axe.  S.  mwe. 

Nay,  adv.,  nay,  no.    0.  N.  nei.  Newe,  v.,  renew.     A.  S.  niwian. 

Hit   is   no   nay,   there   is  no  Nexte,     adj.,     superl.,     nearest, 

denying  it.  next,  last.     A.  S.  nehst. 

Nayl,  n.,  nail.     A.  S.  naegl.  Ney,  adv.,  see  Neigh. 

Ne,  adv.,  conj.,  not,  nor.    A.  S.  Neyghebores,  n.,  plu.,  see  Neigh- 

ne.    Ne . . .  ne,  neither  .  .  .  nor.  ebour. 

Nece,  n.,  niece.    O.  F.  niece.  Nigard,  n.,  miser,  niggard. 

Necessitee,  n.,  necessity.    O.  F.  Nighte,  v.,  grow  dark,  become 

necessite.  night. 

Necgligence,  n.,  negligence.     0.  Nightertale,  n.,  night-time. 

F.  negligence.  Nil,   Nille,   v.,  first   pers.   sing., 

Nede,  n.,  need,  extremity,  peril.  pres.  indie.,  will  not.  shall  not. 

A.  S.  ned/.  A.  S.  nyllan. 

Nede,  adv.,  necessarily.  Nis,  ne — is. 

Nedelees,  adv.,  needless.  Niste,  v.,  pret.,  see  Noot. 

Nedely,  adv.,  of  necessity,  nee-  Nisus     doughter:     Scylla,     who 

essarily.  was  changed  into  a  lark.     See 

Nedes,  adv.,  of  necessity,   nee-  Ovid,  Metam.  viii,  9-151. 

essarily,  needs.  Noble,  n.,  noble:  gold  coin  worth 

Nedes-cost,   adv.,    of   necessity.  6s.  8d. 

Neer,  adv.,  compar.,  nearer,  (as  Noblesse,     n.,     nobleness,     no- 

po(>itive)  near.     A.  S.  near.  bility.     O.  F.  noblece. 

Neet,    n.,     plu.,     neat,     cattle.  Nobleye,    n.,    nobility,    dignity. 

A.  S.  neat.  O.  F.  nobleie. 


GLOSSARY 


471 


Nof,  conj.,  prep.,  nor  of. 

Noght,  adv.,  not,  by  no  means. 
A.  S.  nawiht. 

Noght,  n.,  nothing.  A.  S.  na- 
wiht. 

Nolde,  v.,  prel.,  see  Nil. 

Nombre,  n.,  number.     O.  F. 

Nombred,  p.  p.,  see  Noumbre. 

Nome,  p.  p.,  taken.  From  Nime. 
A.  S.  niman.  Cf.  Y-nome. 

Non,  pron.,  see  Noon. 

Nones,  nonce.  For  the  nones, 
for  the  occasion.  M.  E.  for 
then  anes;  A.  S.  for  Sam  anes. 

Nonne,  n.,  nun.     A.  S.  nunne. 

Noon,  pron.,  none,  no.  A.  S. 
nan. 

Noot,  v.,  first  pers.  sing.,  pres. 
indie.,  know  not.  A.  S.  nat. 

Norice,  n.,  nurse.    O.  F. 

Norished,  p.  p.,  nourished, 
brought  up.     0.  F.  norir. 

Norissing,  n.,  nutriment. 

Northfolk,  Norfolk. 

Northren,  adj.,  northern.  A.  S. 
norberne. 

Nose-thirles,  n.,  plu.,  nostrils. 
A.  S.  nos]?yrl. 

Noskinnes,  for  Noneskinnes,  of 
no  kind. 

Nost,  Nostow,  v.,  second  pers. 
sing.,  pres.  indie.,  knowest  not, 
knowest  thou  not.  See  Noot. 

Not,  v.,  see  Noot. 

Notabilitee,  n.,  notable  fact.  0. 
F.  notabilite. 

Notable,  adj.,  notorious,  re- 
markable. F. 

Note,  n.,  musical  note,  tune.    F. 

Not-heed,  n.,  head  with  hair 
cropped  short. 

Nother,  con/.,  neither. 

Nothing,  adv.,  in  no  respect. 

Nouchis,  n.,  plu.,  jewelled  or- 
naments. 0.  F.  nouche. 

Nought,  adv.,  see  Noght. 

Noumbre,  n.,  see  Nombre. 

Noumbre,  v.,  number,  count. 
0.  F.  nombrer. 

Nouthe,  adv.,  now  then,  now. 
A.  S.  nu  t5a. 

Novelrye,  n.,  novelty.  0.  F. 
novelene. 


Noveltee,    n.,    novelty.     O.   F. 

novelte. 
Nowher,  adv.,  nowhere.     A.  S. 

nahwaer. 
Noyous,  adj.,   troublesome.     0. 

F.  enuius. 

Noyse,  n.,  noise.    O.  F. 
Ny,    adv.,    nigh,     nearly.      See 

Negh,  Neigh. 
Nyce,    adj.,     foolish,     ignorant, 

finicky.     0.  F.  nice. 
Nycely,  adv.,  foolishly. 
Nycete,  Nycetee,  n.,  folly,  sim- 
plicity,    scrupulousness.       0. 

F.  nicete. 

Nyne,  adj.,  nine.    A.  S.  nigon. 
Nynthe,  adj.,  ninth. 

O 
O,  adj.,   one.     A.  S.  an.     See 

On,  Oo,  Oon. 
Obeisant,  adj.,  obedient.    0.  F. 

obeissant. 
Obeisaunce,  n.,   obedience.     0. 

F.  obeissance. 

Observaunce,  n.,  respect,  hom- 
age,   ceremony.      0.    F.    ob- 
servance. 
Obstmat,     adj.,     obstinate.     L. 

obstinatus. 
Octovien,  Octavian. 
Of,  prep.,  of,  off;  adv.,  off,  away. 

A.  S.  of. 
Of-caste,   v.,    cast   off.      A.   S. 

of— 0.  N.  kasta. 
Offende,  v.,  assail,  injure.    0.  F. 

offendre. 
Offensioun,  n.,  offense,  damage. 

O.  F.  offension. 
Offertorie,     n.,     offertory.       L. 

offertorium. 

Officere,  n.,  officer.    F.  officier. 
Of-newe,    adv.,     newly,     again, 

lately.     A.  S.  of — niwe. 
Of-spring,  n.,  offspring.     A.  S. 
Of-taken,  p.  p.,  taken  off,  taken 

away.     A.  S.  of — tacan. 
Ofte,  adv.,  often.     A.  S.  oft. 
Of-thowed,  p.  p.,  thawed  away. 
Oght,  n.,  aught,  anything;  adv., 

aught,  at  all.    A.  S.  awiht. 
Oghte,  v.,  pret.,  impers.,  see  Owe. 
Oille,  n.,  oil.    0.  F. 


472  GLOSSARY 

Oise:   a  river  which  flows  into  Orion,    Arion:    the    harper,    see 

the  Seine  from  the  north  not  Ovid,  Fasti,  ii,  79-118. 

far  below  Paris.  Orisonte,    n.,    horizon.      0.    F. 

Oistre,  n.,  oyster.     0.  F.  orizonte. 

Old,  adj.,  old.     A.  S.  eald.  Orisoun,  n.,  prayer.    O.  F.  orison. 

Oliver:  the  friend  of  Roland  in  Orloge,  n.,   clock.     F.  horloge. 

the  Chanson  de  Roland.  Ost,  n.,  host,  army.    O.  F. 

Olyve,    n.,    olive-tree.      0.    F.  Otes,  n.,  plu.,  oats.     A.  S.  ate. 

olive.  Other,  con/.,  either,  or. 

Omeer,  Homer.  Oughte,  v.,  pret.  impers.,  see  Owe. 

On,  adj.,  see  Oon.  Oule,  n.,  owl.     A.  S.  ule. 

Ones,  adv.,  once,  of  one,  united.  Ounces,  n.,  plu.,  small  portions. 

A.  S.  anes.  0.  F.  unce. 

On-lofte,  adv.,  aloft,  up  in  the  Ounded,  p.  p.,  wavy.    F.  onde. 

air.  Oundy,  adj.,  wavy.    F.  onde. 

On-lyve,  adv.,  alive.     A.  £.  on  Oure,  pron.,   ours.     A.  £.  ure. 

life.    See  A-lyve.  Out  of,  prep.,  without. 

Oo,  adj.,  see  O.  Out-breste,  v.,  burst  out.     See 

Ook,  n.,  oak.     A.  S.  ac.  Breste. 

Oon,  adj.,  one.     A.  5.  an.    See  Out-bringe,  v.,  bring  out,  utter. 

O,  On,  Oo.    Oon  the  faireste,  A.  S.  ut — bringan. 

one  of  the  fairest.     Evere  in  Out-caughte,    v.,    pret.,    caught 

oon,  ever  alike.    Oon  and  oon,  out,  drew  out.     See  Cacche. 

one  by  one.    After  oon,  after  Out-drawe,    p.    p.,    drawn   out. 

one    standard.      Many    oon,  A.  S.  ut — dragan. 

many  a  one.  Oute,  adv.,  out.    A.  S.  ute. 

Ooth,  n.,  oath.     A.  S.  at5.  Outerly,  adv.,  utterly. 

Opie,  n.,  opium.     L.  opium.  Outfleyinge,  s.,  flying  out.    See 

Opinioun,    n.,    opinion.      O.    F.  Flee. 

opinion.  Out-hees,  n.,  hue  and  cry,  out- 

Opposit,  n.,  opposite  point.    O.  cry.    A.  *S>.  ut — haes. 

F.  Outher,  conj.,  either,  or. 

Or,    conj.,    prep.,    ere,    before.  Outraye,  v.,  be  outrageous,  in- 

A.  S.  aer.    See  Er.  cur     disgrace,     lose     temper. 

Oratorie,  n.,   oratory:  room  for  O.  F.  outreier. 

prayers.  L.  oratorium.  Outrely,  adv.,  see  Outerly. 

Ordenaunce,  n.,  ordinance,  pro-  Out-rood,    v.,    pret.    sing.,    rode 

vision,  plan.    O.  F.  ordenance.  out.    See  Ryde. 

Ordeyne,  v.,  determine.     O.  F.  Out-ryder,     n.,     rider     abroad: 

ordener.       Ordeyne,     p.     p.,  an     officer     of    a    monastery, 

regulated.  whose  duty  it  was  to  look  after 

Ordinaunce,  n.,  see  Ordenaunce.  the  outlying  manors  belonging 

Ordre,  n.,  order,  law,  religious  to  it. 

order.     0.  F.     Ordres  foure,  Out-springe,  v.,   spring  abroad, 

the  four  orders:  Augustinian  come   to   light.      A.   S.   ut — 

Dominican,    Franciscan,    and  springan. 

Carmelite  Friars  Out-sterte,  v.,  pret.  plu.,  started 

Orewelle,  Orwell:  the  name  of  an  out.    See  Sterte. 

English  port  in  Chaucer's  dayy  Out-wende,  v.,  come   out,    pro- 

now  Harwich.  ceed.     See  Wende. 

Orgon,  n.,  organ.     L.  organum.  Over-al,  adv.,  everywhere. 

Orient,  n.,  east.     F.  Over-goon,  v.,  pass  away.     See 

Original,  n.,  cause.    0.  F.  Goon. 


GLOSSARY  473 

Over-loked,  p.  p.,  looked  over,  Palestral,  adj.,  athletic. 

perused.    See  Loke.  Paleys,  n.,  palace.    O.  F.  paleis. 

Over-raughte,  v.,  pret.,  reached  Palfrey,  n.,  palfrey,  horse.    O.  F. 

over:  so  urged  on.    See  Reche.  palefrei. 

Over-riden,  p.  p.,  ridden  over.  Palladion,  Palladium:  an  image 

See  Ryde.  of  Pallas  Athena,  particularly 

Over-shake,    p.    p.,    caused    to  that  at  Troy. 

pass  away,  shaken  off.    A.  S.  Pan,  n.,  brain-pan,  skull.    A.  S. 

ofer — scacan.  panne. 

Overshote,   p.   p.,    overrun   the  Paniers,  n.,  plu.,  panniers,  bas- 

scent.     From  Overshete.     A.  kets  for  bread.     F.  panier. 

S.  ofer — sceotan.  Papir,  n.,  paper.    A.  F. 

Over-sprat,    v.,    pres.    sing.,    see  Par  amour,  see  Paramour. 

Oversprede.  Par  cas,  by  chance.     See  Cas. 
Oversprede,     v.,     spread     over,  Paradys,  n.,  paradise.    F.  para- 
cover.    A.  S.  ofer — sprsedan.  dis. 

Overt,  adj.,  open.     O.  F.  Paramour,  by  way  of  secular  love, 

Overthwart,    Overthwert,    adv.,  for  love,  with  devotion. 

across.  A.  S.  ofer — O.jV.J?vert.  Paraunter,  Paraventure,  perad- 

Ovyde,  Ovid.  venture,  perhaps. 

Owe,    v.,    own,    owe,    possess;  Pardee,  inter j.,    a  common  oath. 

ought;    (refl.)    be    incumbent.  0.  F.  par  de. 

Oghte,  Oughte,  pret.,  impers.,  Pardieux,  interj.,  see  Pardee. 

be  necessary,   was  necessary.  Pardoneer,   n.,   pardoner,   seller 

A.  S.  agan.  of   indulgences.      O.    F.    par- 

Owene,  adj.,  own.     .4.  S.  agen  donier. 

(p.  p.).  Pardoun,    n.,    pardon.      0.    F. 

Owner,  adv.,  anywhere.     A.  S.  pardun. 

ahweer.  Parfey,  interj.,  by  my  faith.     A. 

Owle,  n.,  see  Oule.  F.  par  fei. 

Oxe,  n.,  ox.     A.  S.  oxa.  Parfit,  adj.,  perfect.    O.  F. 

Oxenford,  Oxford.  Parfitly,  adv.,  perfectly. 

Oxe-stalle,  n.,   ox-stall.     A.  S.  Parfourne,    v.,    perform,    fulfill. 

oxa — steall.  O.  F.  parfournir. 

Oynement,  n.,  ointment.     O.  F.  Parisshe,    n.,     parish.      O.    F. 

oignement.  paroisse. 

Oynons,    n.,    plu.,    onions.      F.  Parisshens,     n.,     plu.,     parish- 

oignon.  ioners.     O.  F.  paroissien. 

Parlement,  n.,  deliberation,  par- 
liament.   O.  F. 

Paas,  n.,  see  Pas.  Parnaso,  Parnassus. 

Pace,  v.,  pass,  go,  surpass.     0.  F.  Parodie,    n.,    period,    duration. 

passer.    See  Passe.  O.  F.  periode. 

Pacience,  n.,  patience.     O.  F.  Part,  n.,  part,  party,  side.    0.  F. 

Pacient,  adj.,  patient.     O.  F.  Parte,  v.,  participate  in,  share, 

Pacient,  n.,  patient.    O.  F.  depart.    0.  F.  partir. 

Paillet,  n.,  pallet.    F.  Particuler,     adj.,     special.       F. 

Paine,  n.,  see  Peyne.  particulier. 

Paire,  n.,  pair.    0.  F.  pair.  Partrich,  n.,   partridge.     0.   F. 

Palatye,     Palathia:      in      Asia  perdriz. 

Minor.  Party,  adj.,  partly.    0.  F.  parti. 

Pale,    n.,    perpendicular    stripe.  Partye,  n.,   portion,   part,   side, 

F.  pal.  taker  of  a  side.    O.  F.  partie. 


474 


GLOSSARY 


Parvys,    n.,    church-porch.      F. 

parvis. 

Pas,  n.,  pace,  step,  distance.    F. 
Passant,   pres.   partic.,   as   adj., 

surpassing.    F. 
Passe,  t».,  surpass,  exceed,  pass. 

See  Pace. 
Passioun,  n.,  passion,  suffering. 

F.  passion. 
Patente,  n.,  patent,  a  letter  of 

privilege:  so-called  because  open 

to  inspection. 
Patriarkes,  n.,  plu.,  patriarchs. 

0.  F.  patriarke. 

Patron,  n.,  patron,  pattern.     F. 
Paunche,    n.,    paunch.      0.   F. 

panche. 
Pawmes,   n.,    plu.,    palms.     F. 

paume. 

Pay,  n.,  pleasure.    0.  F.  paie. 
Paye,    v.,    pay,    satisfy.     0.   F. 

paier. 

Payen,  adj.,  pagan.    0.  F.  paien. 
Payre,  n.,  see  Paire. 
Pece,  n.,  piece.    0.  F. 
Pecok,     n.,     peacock.       A.     S. 

pawa — coc. 
Peer,  n.,  peer,  equal.    O.  F.  per. 

See  Pere. 

Pees,  n.,  peace.    O.  F.  pais. 
Peire,  n.,  see  Paire. 
Pekke,  v.,  peck,  pick. 
Pel,  n.,  peel,  small  castle.    O.  F. 

pel. 

Pelet,  n.,  pellet,  stone  cannon- 
ball.    F.  pelote. 
Pemond,  Piedmont. 
Penalopee,  Penelope. 
Penaunce,   n.,   penance,    suffer- 
ing.   O.  F.  penance. 
Pencel,  n.,  pencil,  brush.    0.  F. 

pincel. 
Pencel,  n.,  small  banner.    0.  F. 

penoncel. 
Penneus,  Peneus. 
Penoun,  n.,  pennon:  small  flag 

borne  at  the  end  of  a  lance. 

0.  F.  penon. 
Pens,  n.,  plu.,  pence. 
Peple,  n.,  people.    0.  F.  pueple. 
Peraventure,  adv.,  see  Paraunter, 

Paraventure. 
Perce,  v.,  pierce.    O.  F.  percier. 


Perchaunce,    adv.,    by    chance. 

O.  F.  per — cheance. 
Perche, n.,  perch  (for  birds} .  0.  F. 
Pere,    n.,    peer,    equal.      0.    F. 

per.    See  Peer. 
Perle,  n.,  pearl.    F. 
Permutacioun,  n.,  change.   0.  F. 

permutacion. 
Perotheus,  Pirithous. 
Perpetuelly,    adv.,    perpetually. 
Perre,      Perrie,      Perrye,      n., 

jewellry.    0.  F.  pierrie. 
Pers,    n.,    stuff    of    a    sky-blue 

color.     0.  F. 
Perseveraunce,    n.,    endurance, 

constancy.     0.   F.   persever- 
ance. 
Persone,  Persoune,  n.,  person, 

figure,  parson.    0.  F.  persone. 
Persuasioun,  n.,  persuasion,  be- 
lief.   F.  persuasion. 
Pertourbe,  v.,  perturb.      O.  F. 

pertourber. 

Pervers,  adj.,  perverse.  F. 
Peter,  interj.,  by  St.  Peter! 
Peyne,  n.,  pain,  grief,  trouble. 

O.   F.   peine.     Dyen   in   the 

peyne,  to  die  by  torture. 
Peyne,  v.,  take  pains,  endeavor. 

O.  F.  pener. 

Peynte,  v.,  paint.    O.  F.  peindre. 
Peyntour,    n.,    painter.      0.    F. 

peintor. 

Peyre,  n.,  see  Paire. 
Pharao,  Pharo,  Pharoah. 
Pheton,  Phaethon. 
Phillis,  PhyUis. 
Philosophic,  n.,  philosopher.    F. 

philosophe. 
Philosophye,  n.,  philosophy.    O. 

F.  filosofie. 
Phisicien,  n.,  physician.     0.  F. 

physicien. 
Phisik,     n.,     physic,     medicine. 

O.  F.  phisique. 
Phisiologus:    a    Latin   collection 

of  allegorical  accounts  of  various 

animals. 

Phitonesses,    n.,    plu.,    python- 
esses, witches.    O.  F.  phitonise. 
Pietee,  n.,  pity.    0.  F.  piete. 
Pietous,  adj.,  piteous,  sad.     O» 

F.  pietos.    See  Pitous. 


GLOSSARY  475 

Pigges,  ft.,  gen.,  pig's.  Pleye,  v.,  play,   amuse  oneself. 

Pighte,  v.,  pret.,  pitched.  A.  S.  plegian. 

Piled,  p.  p.,  deprived  of  hair,  Pleyinge,  s.,  amusement,  sport. 

bare,    thin    (beard).      A.    S.        A.  S.  plegian. 

pylian.  Pleyn,  adj.,  full,  complete;  adv., 
Pileer,  Piler,  n.t  pillar,  column.        fully.    F.  plein. 

0.  F.  piler.  Pleyn,   adj.,   plain,    clear;   adv., 
Pilour,  n.,  robber,  pillager.    0.  F.        plainly,  clearly.     O.  F.  plain. 

pilleur.  Pleyne,    v.,    complain,    lament. 
Pilwe,  n.,  pillow.    A.  S.  pyle.  F.  plaindre. 

Pilwe-beer,  n.,  pillow-case.  Pleynly,    adv.,    plainly,    openly; 
Pinacles,     n.,     plu.,     pinnacles.        fully. 

0.  F.  Pleynte  of  Kynde :  the  De  Planctu 
Pinche,  v.,  find  fault  with,  plait.        Naturae  by  Alanus  de  Insulis. 

0.  F.  (pincier).  O.  F.  plainte.    See  Aleyn. 

Piper,    n.,    suitable    for    pipes.  Plighte,  v.,  pret.,  plucked,  pulled. 
Piramus,  Pyramus.  A.  S.  plyccan. 

Pirous,  Pyroeis:  a  horse  in  the  Plighte,      v.,      pret.,      plighted, 

chariot  of  the  sun.  pledged.    A.  S.  plihtan. 

Pirrus,  Pyrrhus.  Plukke,  v.,  pluck,  pull.     A.  S. 
Pistel,  n.,  epistle,  message.     A.        pluccian. 

S.  pistol.  Plye,  v.,  ply,  bend.     O.  F.  plier. 

Pitaunce,   n.,   pittance.     0.   F.  Plyght,    p.    p.,    plighted.      See 

pitance.  Plighte. 

Pite,  Pitee,  n.,  pity.    O.  F.  Plyt,  n.,  plight,  condition,  mis- 
Pitous,    adj.,    piteous,    compas-        hap.    O.  F.  ploit. 

sionate.      0.    F.    pitos.      See  Plyte,  v.,  fold. 

Pietous.  Poete,  n.,  poet.    O.  F.  poete. 

Pitously,  adv.,  piteously,  sadly.  Poetrye,     n.,     poetry.       0.     F. 
Plane,  n.,  plane.    O.  F.  plasne.        poetrie. 

Planete,  n.,  planet.    0.  F.  Point   devys,   with   great   neat- 
Plante,  n.,  slip,  cutting.     A.  S.        ness,  exactly. 

Plat,    adj.,    flat,    certain;    adv.,  Pokkes,  n.,  plu.,  pocks,  pustules. 

flat,  bluntly.     F.  plat.  A.  S.  poc. 

Platly,  adv.,  flatly,  plainly.  Polcat,  n.,  polecat.    — A.  S.  cat. 

Playn,  adj.,  see  Pleyn.  Policye,     n.,     public     business. 
Pleding,  s.,  pleading.  O.  F.  policie. 

Plee,  n.,  plea,  pleading.     0.  F.  Polite,  see  Polyte. 

plait.  Polixena,    Polixene,    Polyxena: 
Plentee,  n.,   plenitude,   fulness.        daughter  of  Priam. 

O.  F.  plente.  Pollax,  n.,  pole-axe. 

Plentevous,  adj.,  plenteous.    O.  Polynestor,  Polymnestor. 

F .  Polyte,  Polites. 

Plesaunce,  n.,  pleasure,  pleasant  Pomel,    n.,    round    part,     top. 

thing,  delight.    0.  F.  plaisance.        0.  F.  pomel. 

Plesaunt,  adj.,  pleasant,   agree-  Pomely,   adj.,   dappled.     O.   F. 

able.     0.  F.  pleisant.  pomele. 

Plese,  v.,  please.    0.  F.  plaisir.  Pompe,  n.,   pomp.     F.  pompe. 

Plete,  v.j  plead,  argue.      O.  F.  Pompee,  Pompey. 

plaitier.  Popet,  n.,  puppet,  doll.     0.  F. 
Pleting,  s.,  pleading,  argument.        poupette. 

Pley,    n.,    play,    sport.      A.    S.  Popiniay,    n.,    popinjay.     O.  F. 

plega.  papegai. 


476  GLOSSARY 

Popler,  n.,   poplar-tree.     0.  F.  Preche,  v.,  preach.     O.  F.  pre- 

poplier.  chier. 

Poraille,  n.,  poor  people.    0.  F.  Precious,  adj.,  precious,  prudish, 

povraille.  dainty.     0.  F.  precios. 

Port,     n.,     carriage,     behavior,  Predestinee,  n.,  predestination. 

bearing.    F.  port.  F. 

Portreiture,  n.,  drawing,  picture.  Predicacioun,      n.,      preaching, 

O.  F.  portraiture.  sermon.     O.  F.  predicaciun. 

Portreye,    v.,    portray,    depict.  Preef,  n.,  proof.    0.  F.  prueve. 

O.  F.  portraire.  Prees,  n.,  press,  throng.     O.  F. 

Pose,  t>.,  suppose,  put  the  case.  presse.    See  Press. 

F.  poser.  Preest,  n.,  priest.    A.  S.  preost 

Posittf,  adj.,  positive,  fixed.    0.  Preise,  v.,  praise,  esteem.    0.  F. 

F.  preisier. 

Possibilitee,  n.,  possibility.     F.  Prelat,  n.,  prelate.     O.  F. 

possibilite.  Prescience,    n.,    foreknowledge. 

Potage,  n.,  broth.     F.  F. 

Potente,  n.,  staff,  crutch.  Present,  adv.,  immediately.  0.  F. 

Pothecarie,  n.,  apothecary.     0.  Preson,  n.,  prison.     0.  F. 

F.  apotecaire.  Press,  n.,  throng,  press,  mould. 

Pouche,  n.,  pouch,  pocket.    0.  F.  0.  F.  presse.    See  Prees.    On 

poche.  presse,  in  a  suppressed  state. 

Poudre,  n.,  powder,  dust.    O.  F.  Prest,  n.,  see  Preest. 

poldre.  Prest,     adj.,     ready,     prepared, 

Poudre-marchant,  n.,  a  kind  of  prompt.     O.  F. 

spice.      0.    F.    poldre — mar-  Presumpcioun,  n.,  presumption. 

chant.  O.  F.  presomption. 

Poun,     n.,     pawn     (at     chess}.  Pretende,  v.,  attempt  to  reach. 

O.  F.  paon.  seek    (after).      F.    pretendrei 

Pound,  n.,  plu.,  pounds.     A.  S.  Preve,     n.,     proof,     experience. 

pund.  0.   F.   prueve.     See  Preef. 

Poupe,  v.,  blow,  puff.  Preve,  v.,  prove,  test,  approve, 

Poure,  v.,  pore,  gaze  steadily.  show.    O.  F.  proven 

Pous,  n.,  pulse.     O.  F.  Prevetee,   n.,   secret  place,   re- 

Poverte,  n.,  poverty.     0.  F.  cess.      O.    F.    privete.      See 

Povertee,   n.,   poverty.     0.   F.  Privetee. 

poverte.  Prevy,  adj.,  privy,  secret.    O.  F. 

Povre,  adj.,  poor.    O.  F.  prive.    See  Privee. 

Povreliche,  adj.,  poorly,  in  pov-  Preye,  n.,  prey.     A.  F.  preie. 

erty.  Preye,  v.,  pray,  beseech.    0.  F. 

Povrely,  adv.,  in  poor  array.  preier. 

Povrest,    adj.,    superl.,   poorest.  Preyere,  n.,  see  Prayere. 

See  Povre.  Preyse,  v.,  see  Preise. 

Poynaunt,  adj.,  pungent.    0.  F.  Priamus,  Priam. 

poignant.  Priapus:  the  god  of  fruitfulness; 

Poynt,   n.,   point,    aim.     0.   F.  for  the  episode  see  Ovid,  Fasti, 

point.  it  4I5. 

Poynte,    v.,    describe.       0.     F.  Pricasour,  n.,  a  hard  rider. 

pointier.  Prike,  v.,  spur,  incite,  urge,  ride. 

Practisour,  n.,  practitioner.  A.  S.  prician. 

Praunce,  v.,  prance,  run  about.  Priking,  s.,  hard  riding. 

Prayere,    n.,     prayer.      0.     F.  Prikke,  n.,  point,  stab.     A.  S. 

preiere.  pricca. 


GLOSSARY  477 

Princesse,  n.,  princess.     F.  Pryvee,  adj.,  see  Privee. 

Prioresse,    n.,    prioress.      0.   F.  Pseustis:    unidentified,    but   per- 

Pris,  n.,  see  Prys.  haps   Thespis  of  Attica  whose 

Prisoun,  n.,  prison.     F.  prison.  plays    were    acted    at    Athens 

Privee,  adj.,  secret,  private,  in-  (Skeat). 

timate.  'O.F.prive.  SeePrevy.  Publiced,     Publisshed,     p.     p., 

Privee,  n.,  privy.  proclaimed,  published.     O.  F. 

irively,  adv.,  secretly.  publier. 

Privetee,    n.,    privacy,    secrets,  Puella:  a  figure  in  geomancy  rep- 
private  affairs.    O.  F.  privete.  resenting  a  constellation.     This 

See  Prevetee.  figure  was  dedicated  to  Venus; 

Precede,   v.,   proceed.     F.   pro-  perhaps   confused  with    Puer, 

ceder.  which  was  dedicated  to  Mars. 

Proces,  n.,  process,  course.    O.  F.  See  Rubeus. 

Profre,  v.,  proffer,  offer.     A.  F.  Pull,  n.,  a  bout  at  wrestling,  a 

Proheme,  n.,   proem,   prologue.  throw. 

O.  F.  Pulle,   v.,   pull,    pluck.      A.   S. 

Proigne,  Procne.  pullian.     Pulle  a  finch,  pluck 

Prolixitee,     n.,     prolixity.       F.  (cheat)  a  novice  (slang}. 

prolixite.  Pulpet,  n.,  pulpit.    L.  pulpitum. 

Prologe,  n.,  prologue.     0.  F.  Pultrye,    n.,    poultry.      0.     F. 

Pronounce,    v.,    announce,    pro-  pouletrie. 

nounce.      O.    F.    prononcier.  Punyce,  v.,  punish.     F.  punir. 

Prophesye,  n.,  prophecy.    O.  F.  Purchace,  v.,  procure,  win.     A. 

profecie.  F.  purchacer. 

Propre,      adj.,      proper,      own,  Purchas,    n.,    proceeds    of   beg- 

comely.     O.  F.  ging,  gain.    O.  F. 

Proprely,  adv.,  fitly,  properly.  Purchasing,    n.,     conveyancing, 

Propretee,   n.,   peculiarity,   spe-  acquisition  of  property. 

cialty,  property.    O.  F.  prop-  Purchasour,  n.,  conveyancer.    A. 

rete."  F. 

Proserpyne,  Proserpine.  Pure,  adj.,  very,  pure,  utter;  adv., 

Proteccioun,  n.,  protection.     O.  purely.    0.  F.  pur. 

F.  protection.  Purfiled,     p.     p.,     ornamented, 

Protestacioun,   n.,    protest.     F.  trimmed.     0.  F.  porfiler. 

protestation.  Purgatorie,  n.,  purgatory.    A.  F. 

Proverbe,   n.,    proverb.      0.   F.  Purpos,  n.,  purpose.     0.  F. 

Prow,     n.,     profit,     advantage.  Purpose,    v.,    purpose,    propose. 

0.  F.  prou.  0.  F.  purposer. 

Prowesse,    n.,    prowess,    valor.  Purpre,    adj.,    purple.      A.    S. 

O.  F.  proece.  purpure;  O.  F.  purpre. 

Pruce,  Pruyse,  Prussia, Prussian.  Purs,  n.,  purse.    A.  S. 

Pryamus,  Priam.  Pursevauntes,     n.,     plu.,     pur- 

Pryde,  n.,  pride.     A.  S.  pryte.  suivants.    O.  F.  pursivant. 

Prydeles,    adj.,    without    pride.  Purtreye,  v.,  see  Portreye. 

Pryme,  n.,  prime  (of  day):  six  Purtreyour,     n.,     draughtsman, 

to  nine  a.   m.     A.  S.   prim;  painter,  drawer. 

O.  F.  prime.    Half  way  pryme:  Purveyaunce,     n.,     providence, 

half-past  seven.  prescience,   provision.     0.   F. 

Prymer,     n.,     primer.       O.     F.  purveance. 

primier.  Purveye,  v.,  provide,  take  pre- 

Prys,    n.,    price,    value,    praise,  cautions.      A.   F.   purveier, 

esteem,  glory.     O.  F.  pris.  Put,  n.,  pit.     A.  S.  pyt. 


478  GLOSSARY 

Putte,  v.,  put,  lay,  suppose.  Quit,  p.  p.,  see  Quyte. 

Pye,  n.,  magpie.     0.  F.  pie.  Quitly,  adv.,  freely,  wholly. 

Pye,  n.,  pie.  Quod,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  said,  quoth. 
Pyk,  n.,  pike  C/w?fc).    A.  S.  pic.        A.  5.  cweoan. 

Pyke,  v.,  peek,  pry.  Quook,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  trembled, 
Pykepurs,n.,pickpurse.  — A.  S.        quaked.    From  Quake.    A.  S. 

purs.  cwacian. 

Pyne,  n.,  pain,  torment.    A.  S.  Quyte,  v.,  requite,  reward,  pay, 

pin  /.  release,  free.    O.  F.  quiter. 

Pyne,  v.,  torture.    A.  S.  pinian. 
Pype,  n.,  pipe.    A.  S.  pipe. 

Pype,  t>.,  play  the  pipe,  pipe.  Rad,  p.  p.;  Radde,  v.,  pret.;  see 
Pypers,  n.,  plu.,  pipers.     A.  S.        Rede. 

pipere.  Raft,  p.  p.',  Rafte,  v.,  pret.;  see 

Reve. 

Q  Rage,     n.,     passion,     madness, 
Quaille,  n.,  quail.     0.  F.  fierce  blast.    0.  F. 

Qualm,    n.,    pestilence,    plague,  Rage,  v.,  romp,   toy  wantonly. 

foreboding.      A.    S.    cwealm.        0.  F.  ragier. 

Quantite,     n.,     quantity,     size,  Ragerye,    n.,    passion,    wanton- 

vastness.    0.  F.  ness.     0.  F.  ragerie. 

Quappe,    v.,    heave,    toss,    pal-  Rakel,  adj.,  rash,  hasty. 

pitate.  Rakelnesse,  n.,  rashness. 

Quayles,   n.,   plu.,   see   Quaille.  Rakle,  v.,  behave  rashly. 

Queinte,  adj.,  see  Queynte.  Ram,  n.,  ram  (as  a  prize  af  a 
Quelle,  v.,   kill,   strike.     A.  S.        wrestling-match};    Aries     (first 

cwellan.  sign    of   the    zodiac).      A.    S. 

Queme,  v .,  please.     A.  S.  ewe-        See  Aries. 

man.  Rancour,  n.,  ill-feeling,  malice. 
Quenche,  v.,  quench,  extinguish,        O.  F.  rancor. 

put  a  stop    to.      A.  S.    (a)-  Ransake,     v.,     ransack,     search 

cwencan.  thoroughly. 

Quene,  n.,  queen.    A.  S.  cwen/.  Rape,  n,,  haste.    0.  N.  hrap. 

Querne,    n.,    quern,    hand-mill.  Rascaille,  n.,  mob.     A.  F. 

A.  S.  cweorn  /.  Rasour,  n..  razor.    0.  F.  rasor. 

Questioun,  n.,   dispute,   discus-  Rathe,  adv.,  soon,  early.     A.  S. 

sion.     0.  F.  question.  hraeS. 

Queynt,  p.  p.;  Queynte,  v.,  pret.;  Rather,  adv.,  sooner,  more  wil- 

see  Quenche.  lingly,  rather.    A.  S.  hraSor. 

Queynte,    adj.,    artful,    ingeni-  Rattes,  n.,  plu.,  rats.    A.  S.  raet. 

ously  wrought,  elaborate,  ele-  Raughte,  v.,  pret.,  see  Reche. 

gant;    adv.,    artfully.      O.    F.  Raunsoun   n.,    ransom.      0.    F. 

queinte.  rancpn. 

Queynteliche,     adv.,     curiously,  Rave,  v.,  be  mad,  speak  madly. 

cunningly.  0.  F.  raver. 

Quiete,  n.,  quiet,  repose.    0.  F.  Raven,   n.,   raven;   Corvus   (the 
Quik,  adj.,  alive.     A.  S.  cwic.        constellation).     A.  S.  hraefn. 

Quike,  v.,  quicken,  revive.     A.  Ravisedest,  v.,  second^  pers.  sing., 

5.  cwician.  pret.  indie.,  see  Ravisshe. 

Quiknesse,  n.,  liveliness.  Ravisshe,     v.,     ravish,     snatch 
Quiryne:  Romulus.  away.     F.  ravir. 

Quisshin,    n.,    cushion.      0.    F.  Ravyne,     n.,     ravening,     ravin, 

coissin.  prey,  theft.     0.  F.  ravine. 


GLOSSARY 


479 


Rayed,   p.   p.,   striped.     0.   F. 

raie. 

Rayne,  r.,  see  Reyne. 
Razis,  Rhasis:  a  Spanish  Arabian 

physician  of  the  tenth  century. 
Real,  adj.,  royal,  regal.  0.  F. 
Realme,  n.,  realm,  kingdom. 

O.  F.  reialme. 
Rebel,   adj.,   rebellious.     0.   F. 

rebelle. 
Rebelling,  s.,  rebellion.     F.  re- 

beller. 
Recche,    v..    reck,    care,    heed. 

A.  S.  recan,  reccan. 
Recche,   v.,   interpret,    expound. 

A.  S.  reccan,  reccean. 
Recchelees,  adj.,  reckless,  care- 
less. 
Receyve,    v.,    receive.      O.    F. 

receivre. 
Rechased,  p.  p.,  headed  back, 

chased  back.    F.  rechasser. 
Reche,    v.,    reach,    give,    touch, 

proceed.     A.  S.  rgecan. 
Recomaunde,     v.,     recommend. 

F.  recommander. 
Recomforte,  v.,  see  Reconforte. 
Recompensacioun,     n.,     recom- 
pense.   O.  F.  recompensation. 
Reconforte,    v.,    comfort    again, 

encourage.  0.  F.  reconforter. 
Recorde,  v.,  witness,  remember, 

call  to  mind.    0.  F.  recorder. 
Recours,  n.,  recourse,  resort.    F. 
Recreaunt,  adj.,   recreant,   cow- 
ardly.    O.  F.  recreant. 
Red,  p.  p.;  Rede,  v.,  pret.;  see 

Rede. 
Rede,   v.,    read,    advise,    study, 

interpret.     A.  S.  rsedan. 
Rede,  n.,  dot.,  see  Reed. 
Redely,  adv.,  soon,  readily,  truly. 
Redempcioun,    n.,    ransom.     F. 

redemption. 

Reder,  n.,  reader.    A.  S.  rsedere. 
Redily,  adv.,  see  Redely. 
Redouting,  s.,  reverence. 
Redresse,  v.,  redress,  set  right, 

make  amends,  rise  again.     0. 

F.  redresser. 
Redy,  adj.,  ready,  at  hand.     A. 

S.  rsede. 
Reed,    n.,     reed,     musical    in- 


strument made  of  reed.    A.  S. 

hreod. 
Reed,  n.,  counsel,  advice,  plan, 

remedy.     A.  S.  rsed. 
Reed,  adj.,  red.     A.  S.  read. 
Rees,    n.,     race,     great    haste. 

A.  S.  rses. 
Reflexioun,        n.,        reflection, 

thought.      O.   F.   reflexion. 
Refresshe,  v.,  refresh,  recreate. 

0.  F.  refreschier. 
Refreyde,  v.,  grow  cold.     O.  F. 

refreidier. 
Refreyn,     n.,     refrain.      O.    F. 

refrein. 
Refus,    adj.,    refused,    rejected. 

O.  F.  refuser. 
Regioun,  n.,  region,  realm.    A.  F. 

regiun. 
Registre,  n.,  register,  story.    0. 

Regne,  n.,  kingdom,  dominion, 

realm.    O.  F. 
Regne,  v.,  reign,  prevail.    0.  F. 

regner. 
Reherce,  v.,  rehearse,  enumerate, 

repeat.    O.  F.  rehercer. 
Rehersing,    s.,    rehearsal.      See 

Reherce. 

Reighte,  v.,  pret.,  see  Reche. 
Reines,    n.,    plu.,    rain-storms. 

A.  S.  regn. 
Reioyse,  v.,  rejoice,  make  glad. 

O.  F.  resjoir. 
Rekene,  v.,  reckon,  count.    A.  S. 

gerecenian. 

Rekeninge,    s.,    reckoning,    ac- 
count.   See  Rekene. 
Rekke,   v.,    care,    reck.      A.   S. 

recan;  reccan.    See  Recche. 
Rekne,  v.,  see  Rekene. 
Relayes,  n.,  plu.,  fresh  sets  of 

hounds,  reserve  packs4    O.  F. 

relais. 
Relesse,     v.,     release,     forgive. 

O.  F.  relesser. 
Releve,    v.,    raise    up,    relieve. 

O.  F.  relever. 
Religioun,  n.,   religion.     A.   F. 

religiun. 
Religious,  adj.,   belonging  to  a 

religious  order.     O.  F. 
Relik,  n.,  relic.     F.  relique. 


480  GLOSSARY 

Reme,  n.,  realm.    O.  F.  reaume.  Rescous,  n.,  rescue,  help.    0.  F. 

Remede,  n.,  remedy.    0.  F.  rescous. 

Remedie,  Remedye,  n.,  remedy.  Rese,  v.,  shake.     A.  S.  r«san. 

0.  F.  remedie.  Resonable,  adj.,  reasonable.    O. 

Remembre,    v.,    remember,    re-  F. 

mind.     O.  F.  remembrer.  Resoun,  n.,  reason,  right.    0.  F. 

Remenant,  n.,  remainder,   rest.  reson. 

O.  F.  Resoune,    v.,    resound.      O.    F. 

Remorde,     v.,     cause     remorse,  resoner. 

vex,  plague.    0.  F.  remordre.  Respect,    n.,    regard.      L.    re- 

Remors,  n.,  remorse.     0.  F.  spectus.     To  respect,   in  rev 

Remuable,  adj.,  changeable,  vari-  spect. 

able.    0.  F.  Resport,  n.,  regard.    O.  F. 

Renges,  n.,  plu.,  ranks.     O.  F.  Respyt,  n.,  respite,  delay.    O.  F. 

renge.  respit. 

Renne,    v.,     run,     be     current,  Reste,  n.,  rest,  repose.     A.  S. 

spread,    continue.     A.   S.   ir-  raest  /. 

nan.  Restelees,  adj.,  restless. 

Renoun,  n.,  renown,  fame.    A.F.  Restreyne,  v.,   restrain.     O.   F. 

Renovelaunces,     n.,     plu.,     re-  restreindre. 

newals.      O.    F.   renovelance.  Ret,  v.,    third  pers.   sing.,   pres. 

Rente,    n.,    income,    payment.  indie.,  see  Rede. 

O.  F.  Retenue,  n.,  retinue.      O.  F. 

Repaire,    v.,    go    back,    return,  Rethor,  n.,  orator.    L.  rhetor. 

find  a  home.    O.  F.  repairer.  Rethoryke,  n.,  rhetoric.     O.  F. 

Reparaciouns,  n.,   plu.,   repara-  rethorique. 

tions,     making    up.      O.    F.  Retourne,    v.,    return.      O.    F. 

reparation.  retourner. 

Repeled,  p.  p.,  repealed.    From  Retourninge,  s.,  return.     O.  F., 

Repele.    0.  F.  rapeler.  retourner. 

Repentaunce,     n.,     repentance.  Reule,  n.,  rule.    O.  F. 

F.  repentance.  Reule,  v.,  rule.    O.  F.  reuler. 

Repentaunt,  adj.,  repentant.    F.  Reve,  n.,  reeve,  steward,  bailiff: 

repentant.  appointed   by  a  landowner  to 

Repeyre,  v.,  see  Repaire.  superintend  his  estates.    A.  S. 

Repleccioun,   n.,   repletion.     0.  gerefa. 

F.  repletion.  Reve,    v.,    rob,    plunder,    take 

Repleet,  adj.,  replete,  full.    O.  F.  away,  bereave.    A.  S.  reafian. 

Replicacioun,  n.,  reply,  repartee.  Revelacioun,  n.,  revelation.    F. 

0.  F.  replication.  revelation. 

Reportour,  n.,  reporter.     0.  F.  Revelour,  n.,  reveller. 

reporteur.  Reverence,    n.,    reverence,    re- 

Reprevable,  adj.,  reprehensible.  spect,  honor.    F. 

0.  F.  reprouvable.  Revers,    n.,    reverse,    contrary. 

Repreve,    n.,    reproof,    shame,  O.  F. 

reproach.     A.  F.  repreove.  Revoke,   v.,   recall.     O.   F.   re- 

Repreve,  v.,  reprove,  reproach.  voquier. 

O.  F.  reprover.  Reward,   n.,   regard,    attention. 

Reputacioun,    n.,    repute,    rep-  O.  F. 

utation.     L.  reputatio.  Rewe,  n.,  row,  line.     A.  S.  rsew 

Requere,    v.,    require,    demand,  /. 

seek.     0.  F.  requerre.  Rewe,  v.,  pity,  have  pity.    A.  S. 

Requeste,    n.,    request.      O.    F.  hreowan. 


GLOSSARY  481 

Rewfulleste,  adj.,  superL,  most  Romaunce,  n.,  romance.     O.  F. 

rueful.  romans. 

Rewfully,   adv.,   ruefully,   sadly.  Romayn,  Roman. 

Rewthe,  n.,  see  Routhe.  Rome,  v.,  roam,  wander. 

Rewthelees,   adj.,   ruthless,   un-  Ron,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Reyne. 

pitying.  Rong,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Ringe. 

Reyes,  n.,   plu.,   round  dances.  Ronne,  v.,  pret.;  p.  p.;  see  Renne. 

Reyn,  n.,  rain.     A.  S.  regn.  Roo,  n.,  roe.     A.  S.  ra. 

Reyne,  ?>.,  rain.     A.  S.  regnian.  Roos,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Ryse. 

Reyne,  n.,  rein.    O.  F.  resne.  Roost,  n.,  roast.     0.  F.  rost. 

Reynes,  Rennes.  Rore,  n.,  uproar. 

Reyse,  v.,  raise.    0.  N.  reisa.  Rore,  v.,  roar,  resound.     A.  S. 
Reysed,  p.  p.,  gone  on  a  military        rarian. 

expedition.  Roste,  v.,  roast.    0.  F.  rostir. 

Riban,  n.,  ribbon.     0.  F.  Rote,  n.,  root,  principle,  source. 
Ribaudye,  n.,   ribaldry.     0.   F.        0.   N.  rot. 

ribaudie.  Rote,  n.,  rote.    By  rote,  by  heart. 

Riche,  adj.,   rich.     A.  S.  rice;  Rote,   n.,    stringed    musical   in- 

cf.  O.  F.  riche.  strument.     0.  F. 

Richesse,     n.,     riches,     wealth.  Roughte,  v.,  pret.,  see  Recche. 

O.  F.  Rouke,  v.,  cower,  huddle. 

Riden,  v.,  pret.  plu.;  p.  p.;  see  Rouncivale:   the   hospital  of  the 

Ryde.  Blessed  Mary  of  Rouncyvalle 

Rightful,  adj.,  perfect.  in  London. 

Rightwisnesse,     n.,     righteous-  Rouncy,  n.,  hackney,  nag.    O.  F. 

ness.      A.   S.   rihtwisnes  /.  ronci. 

Rinde,  n.,  rind,  bark,  hard  skin.  Rounde,  adv.,   round,   fully. 

A.  S.  rind/.  Roundel,  n.,  roundel,  roundelay, 
Ringe,  v.,   ring,   make  resound.        small  circle.     O.  F.  rondel. 

A.  S.  hringan.  Roune,  v.,  whisper.    A.S.  runian. 

Ripheo,  Riphaeus.  Route,  n.,  company,  troop.    O.  F. 

Risshe,  n.,  rush.     A.  S.  risce.  Route,  v.,  roar,  murmur,  snore. 

Al    dere    y-nough    a    risshe,        A.  S.  hrutan. 

quite  expensive  enough  at  the  Routhe,    n.,    pity,    ruth,    corn- 
price  of  a  rush:  i.  e.,  a  rush        passion. 

would  be  loo  much  to  pay  for  it.  Routhelees,  adj.,  ruthless,   piti- 
Rist,  v.,  third  pers.  sing.,   pres.        less. 

indie.,  see  Ryse.  Rowe,  n.,  see  Rewe. 

Roche,   n.,    rock.      0.    F.     See  Rowe,    adv.,    roughly,    angrily. 

Rokke.  A.  S.  ruh. 

Rochel,    Rochelle:    a    town    in  Rowland,  Roland:  the  hero  of  the 

France.  Chanson  de  Roland. 

Rode,  n.,  rood,  cross.  A.S.  rod/.  Rowne,  v.,  see  Roune. 

Rode-beem,  n.,  rood-beam.     A.  Rowthe,  n.,  see  Routhe. 

S.  rod  /. — beam.  Royalliche,  adv.,  royally. 

Rody,  adj.,  ruddy.    A.  S.  rudig.  Royaltee,    n.,    royalty.      O.    F. 
Roghte,  v.,  prel.,  see  Recche.  roialte. 

Rokes,  n.,  plu.,  rooks.     A.  S.  'Rubbe,  v.,  rub  out. 

hroc.  Rubee,  n.,  ruby.    0.  F.  rubi. 

Rokke,  n.,   rock.     O.   F.   roke.  Rubeus:    a  figure   in   geomancy 

See  Roche.  representing  a  constellation.    It 

Rolle,  n.,  roll.     0.  F,  was  dedicated   to   Mars.     See 

Romain,  Roman.  Puella. 


482  GLOSSARY 

Ruce,  Russia.  Sampson,  Sampsoun,  Samson. 

Ruddok,  n.,  robin.    A.S.nidduc.  Sangwin,  n.,   stuff  of  a  blood- 

Rudeliche,  adv.,  rudely.  red  color. 

Rudenesse,  n.,   rusticity,   boor-  Sangwyn,  adj.,  very  ruddy,  blood- 

ishness.  red,  dominated  by  the  blood. 

Rufus:    a    Greek    physician    of  0.  F.  sanguin.     See  Colera. 

Ephesus  of  the  second  century  Santippe,  Xanthippus. 

A.D.  Sarge,  n.,  serge.     0.  F. 

Ruggy,  adj.,  rough.  Sarpedoun,  Sarpedon. 

Rumbel,  n.,  rumble,  rumor.  Satalye,  Attalia  in  Asia  Minor, 

Rused,  v.,  pret.,  made  a  detour,  now  Adalia. 

escaped.     O.  F.  ruser.  Sate,  v.,  pret.  subj.,  see  Sitte. 

Ruyne,  n.,  ruin.     O.  F.  Saturne,  Saturnus,  Saturn. 

Ryde,  v.,  ride,  go  on  expeditions.  Saturnyn,     adj.,     belonging     to 

A.  S.  ridan.  Saturn. 

Rym,   n.,    rime,    tale   in   verse.  Sauf,  adj.,  safe.     O.  F. 

A.  S.  rim.  Sauf,  prep.,  save,  except.    0.  F. 

Ryme,  v.,  put  into  rime.     A.  S.  Saufly,  adv.,  safely,  with  safety. 

riman.  Saugh,  v.,   saw,   looked.     From 

Ryot,  n.,  riotous  living.     O.  F.  See.     A.  S.  seon. 

riot.  Sautrye,    n.,    psaltery.      O.    F. 

Ryotour,    n.,    roisterer.     A.    F.  psalterie. 

riotour.  Savacioun,  n.,  salvation,  safety, 

Rype,  adj.,  ripe,  mature.     A.  S.  protection.     O.  F.  sauvacion. 

ripe.  Save-garde,  n.,  safe-conduct.    0. 

Ryse,  v.,  rise.    A.  S.  risan.  F.  sauvegarde. 

Ryte,    n.,    rite,    ceremony.      L.  Saveour,  n.,  savior.    0.  F.  savepr. 

ritus.  Savoure,   v.,    taste,   have  relish 

Ryve,  v.,  pierce,  tear.    0.  N.  rifa.  for.    0.  F.  savorer. 

Sawcefleem,  adj.,  covered  with 

pimples.      0.   F.    sausefleme. 

Sacrifyse,  n.,   sacrifice.      O.  F.  Sawe,  n.,  saying,  speech.    A.  S. 

sacrifise.  sagu. 

Sad,    n.,     stable,     firm,     sober,  Sawe,  Say,  v.,  pret.,  saw.    From 

fixed,   grave.     A.  S.   saed.  See.     A.  S.  seon. 

Sadel,  n.,  saddle.     A.  S.  sadol.  Sayle,  v.,  sail.     A.  S.  seglian. 

Sadel-bowe,  n.,  saddle-bow:  the  Sayling,  adj.  (from  pres.  partic.), 

pieces  forming  the  front  of  a  sailing,  used  in  ships.     A.  S. 

saddle.     A.  S.  sadelboga.  segling. 

Sadly,  adv.,  firmly,  steadfastly.  Scabbe,  n.,  scab. 

Sadnesse,   n.,    staidness,    sober-  Scalle,  n.,  scabby  disease  of  the 

ness.    A.  S.  saedness /.  skin.     0.  N.  skalle  (?) 

Saffron,  v.,   tinge  with  saffron,  Scalled,  adj.,  scabby.   See  Scalle. 

color.     F.  safraner.  Scape,  v.,  escape.    O.  F.  escaper. 

Salomon,  Solomon.  Scariot,  Iscariot. 

Saluces,  Saluzzo.  Scarlet,    adj.,    scarlet.      0.    F. 

Salue,  v.,  greet,  salute.    F.  saluer.  escarlate. 

Saluinge,s., salutation.  F. saluer.  Scarlet,  n.,  scarlet  stuff.     0.  F. 

Saluwe,  v.,  see  Salue.  escarlate. 

Salve,   n.,   salve,    cure.      A.   S.  Scarmuche,       Scarmyche,       n., 

sealf /.;  sealfe.  skirmish,     0.  F.  escarmuche. 

Samit,    n.,    samite:    a    kind    of  Scarsly,    adv.,    scarcely,    parsi- 

heauy  silk  stuft.     0.  F.  moniously. 


GLOSSARY  483 

Scathe,    n.,    harm,    misfortune.  Sege,  n.,  seat,  siege.     A.  F. 

0.  N.  skatSe.  Segge,  v.,  pres.  plu.,  see  Seye. 

Scipio,  Scipioun,  Scipio  Africanus  Seigh,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  saw.    From 

Minor.    See  Macrobie.  See.     A.  S.  seon. 

Scithia,  Scythia.  Seint,  adj.,  saint,  holy.     0.  F. 

Sclaundre,   n.,   slander.     O.   F.  Seint,  n.,  saint.     O.  F. 

esclandre.  Seint    Beneit,    Saint   Benedict: 

Sclendre,  adj.,   slender.  founder  of  the  Benedictine  order 

Scogan:  probably  Henry  Scogan,  of  monks;  died  c.  544. 

tutor  of  the  two  sons  of  Henry  Seinte    Loy,    Saint   Eloi:    (588- 

IV.  659}   goldsmith  and  master  of 

Scole,  n.,   school,   manner,   dis-  the  mint,   artist  and  courtier; 

cipline.     A.  S.  scolu.  he  once  refused  to  swear  an  oath. 

Scoler,     n.,     scholar.       A.     S.  Seint   lame,    Saint   James;    the 

scolere;  0.  F.  escoler.  shine  of  St.  James  (Santiago} 

Scoleward:  to  scoleward,  toward  at  Compostella. 

school.  Seint  lerome,  Saint  Jerome:  (c. 

Scoleye,  v.,  attend  school.  340-420}  author  of  the  treatise 

Scorne,    v.,    scorn,    treat    with  Adversus  Jovinianum  defend- 

rudeness,  jest  at.     0.  F.  es-  ing  celibacy. 

corner.  Seint    loce,    Saint    Josse:   con- 

Scorpioun,  the  sign  of  Scorpio.  fused  by  the  Wife  of  Bathe  with 

Scrippe,  n.,   scrip,  bag.     L.   L.  Sir  Joce  in  the  Testament  of 

scrippum;  O.  F.  escrepe.  Jean  de  Meun.    Sir  Joce  cared 

Scrit,  n.,  writing,  deed.     O.  F.  "not  a  prune  for  his  wife's  love." 

escrit.  Seint  Julian,  Saint  Julian:  who 

Scrivenish,  adv.,  like  a  scrivener.  provides  his  votaries  with  good 

Scriveyn,     n.,     scribe.       0.     F.  lodgings  and  other  accommoda- 

escrivain.  tions. 

Seche,  v.,  seek.     A.  S.  secan.  Seint    Maure,    Saint    Maur:    a 

See  Seke.  disciple  of  St.  Benedict. 

Secree,  adj.,  secret,  trusty.     O.  Seint  Ronyon,  Saint  Ronan. 

F.  secre.  Seint    Thomas,    Saint    Thomas 

Secrely,  adv.,  secretly.  a  Becket:  murdered  at  Canter- 

Secte,  n.,  sect,  company,  faith.  bury  in  1170. 

F.  Seistow,  v.,   pron.,   second  pers. 

See,  n.,  sea.     A.  S.  sae.     Drye  sing.,  pres.  indie.,  see  Seye. 

see,     dry     sea:     perhaps     the  Seith,  v.,  third  pers.  sing.,  pres. 

desert  of  Gobi.     Cf.  Carrenar.  indie.,  see  Seye. 

Grete     see,     great     sea:     the  Seke,  v.,   seek,   search.     A.  S. 

Mediterranean.  secan.     See  Seche. 

See,  n.,  seat.    0.  F.  Selde,     adj.,     plu.,     few;     adv., 

Seed,  n.,  seed.     A.  S.  ssed.  seldom. 

Seed-foul,  n.,  bird  living  on  seeds.  Self,  adj.,  self-same,  same.    A.  S. 

A.  S.  ssed — fugol.  Selly,    n.,    wonderful.      A.    S. 

Seek,  adj.,  sick,  ill.    A.  S.  seoc.  sellic. 

See  Syk.  Selve,  adj.,  see  Self. 

Seel,  n.,  seal.     0.  F.  Sely,  adj.,  happy,  good,  innocent, 

Seestow,  v.,  pron.,  second  pers.  poor.    A.  S.  seelig. 

sing.,  pres.  indie.,  seest  thou.  Seme,  v.,  seem,  appear.     0.  N. 

From  See.     A.  S.  seon.  s$ma. 

Sect,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Sitte.  Semely,    adj.,    seemly,    comely; 

Seetes,  n.,  plu.,  seats.  adv.,  becomingly. 


484  GLOSSARY 

Semicope,   n.,    half-cope,    short  Sette,    v.,    set,    place.      A.    S. 

cope.     L.  semi— L.  L.  capa.  settan. 

Seming,  s.,  seeming,  appearance.  Seur,  adv.,  surely.     0.  F. 

Semyramus,  Semiramus.  Seurtee,    n.,     surety,     security. 

Sendal,  n.,  thin  silk.     0.  F.  0.  F.  seiirtee. 

Sene,    adj.,     visible,     manifest.  Sewe,  v.,  follow,  pursue.     A.  F. 

A.  S.  gesene.    See  Y-sene.  suire. 

Sene,    v.,    gerund.,    see.      From  Sexte,  ord.  num.,  sixth.     A.  S. 

See.    A.  S.  seon.  sixta. 

Senek,  Seneca.  Sey,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  saw.     From 

Sent,  v.,  third  pers.  sing.,  pres.  See.     A.  S.  seon. 

indie.,   sends.      From   Sende.  Seye,  v.,  say.     A.  S.  secgan. 

A.  S.  sendan.  Seyl,  n.,  sail.     A.  S.  segl. 

Sentement,    n.,    feeling,    fancy.  Seyn,   p.   p.,   seen.     From  See. 

O.  F.  A.  S.  seon. 

Sentence,    n.,    sense,    meaning,  Seyn,  v.,  infin.;  pres.  plu.;  see 

judgment.     0.  F.  Seye. 

Sepulture,  n.,   mode  of  burial,  Seynd,    p.    p.,    singed.      From 

burial,  tomb.     0.  F.  Senge.     A.  S.  sengan. 

Serapion:  an  Arabian  physician  Seyne,  gerund.,  see  Seye. 

of  the  eleventh  century.  Seynt,  adj.;  n.;  see  Seint. 

Sergeaunt    of    the    Lawe,    ser-  Seynt    Gyle,    Saint    Giles:    St. 

geant-at-law:     member    of    a  JEgidius. 

superior    order    of    barristers.  Seynt  lohan,  Saint  John.  "Seynt 

0.  F.  sergent.     A.  S.  lagu.  lohan  on  a  riche  nil"  is  a  pun- 

Sermon,  n.,  see  Sermoun.  ning  reference  to  John  of  Rich- 

Sermone,  v.,  preach,  speak.    0.  mond  (John  of  Gaunt). 

F.  sermoner.  Seynt  VaJentyn,  Saint  Valentine. 

Sermoun,  n.,  discourse,  sermon,  Seys,  Ceyx. 

talk.     A.  F.  sermun.  Shadwe,     n.,     shadow,     shade. 

Servage,    n.,    servitude,    thral-  A.  S.  sceadu. 

dom.    0.  F.  Shadwed,  p.  p.,  shadowed.    A.S. 

Servaunt,    n.,    servant.      0.    F.  sceadwian. 

servant.  Shake,    p.    p.,    shaken.     A.   S. 

Servisable,  adj.,  serviceable,  will-  scacan. 

ing  to  serve,  useful.     O.  F.  Shal,  v.,  first  and  third  pers.  sing., 

Servitute,  n.,  servitude.    O.  F.  pres.  indie.,  shall.  A.  S.  sculan. 

Servyse,    n.,    service,    religious  Shale,  n.,  shell.    A.  S.  scealu. 

service,  musical  performance.  Shalmyes,  n.,  plu.,  shawms,  reed 

O.  F.  seryise.  pipes.    O.  F.  chalemie. 

Sese,  v.,  seize.    0.  F.  seisir.  Shaltow,y.,  second pers.sing., pres. 

Seson,  Sesoun,  n.,  season.     O.  indie.,  shalt  thou.    See  Shal. 

F.  seson.  Shame,  n.,  shame.  A.S.  sceamu. 

Sessiouns,     n.,     plu.,     sessions.  Shamfast,    adj.,    modest,     shy. 

F.  session.  A.  S.  scamfaest. 

Sestow,   v.,   pron.,   second   pers.  Shamfastnesse,  n.,  modesty. 

ting.,  pres.  indie.,  seest  thou.  Shap,  n.,   shape,   form.     A.  S. 

From  See.     A.  S.  seon.  gesceap. 

Sete,  v.,  prt-t.  sing.,  subj.;  Sete,  Shape,  v.,  plan,  devise,  prepare. 

Seten,  v.,    pret.    plu.;    Seten,  A.  S.  scieppan. 

p.  p.;  see  Sitte.  Shaply,  adj.,  shapely,  fit,  likely. 

Sethe,  v.,   seethe,   boil.     A.  S.  Sharpe,  adv.,  sharply. 

seoSan.  Sheef,  n.,  sheaf.    A.  S.  sceaf. 


GLOSSARY  485 

Sheeld,  n.,  see  Sheld.  Shortly,    adv.,    briefly.      A.    S. 

Sheep,  n.,  shoep.     A,  S.  seep.  sceortlice. 

Sheld,  n.,  shield;  shield:  French  Short-sholdred,    adj.,    short    in 

crown  (worth  js.  4d.)     A.  S.  the  upper  arm. 

sceld.  Shottes,  n.,  plu.,  shots.  A.  S.  scot. 

Shelde,  v.,  see  Shilde.  Shour,   n.,   shower,   onset,    con- 

Shende,  v.,  disgrace,  harm,  de-  flict.    A.  S.  scur. 

stroy.    A.  8.  scendan.  Showting,  n.,  shouting. 

Shene,  adj.,  bright,  fair,  beauti-  Shrewe,  n.,  scoundrel,  accursed 

ful.     A.  S.  scene.  wretch,    ill-tempered    person. 

Shepherde,  n.,  shepherd.    A.  S.  A.  S.  screawa. 

sceaphyrde.  Shrewe,  v.,  beshrew,  curse. 

Shepne,  n.,  stable,  shed.     A.  S.  Shrewed,    adj.,    accursed,    evil, 

scypen.  wicked. 

Shere,  n.,  shears,  pair  of  shears.  Shrewednesse,    n.,    wickedness, 

A.  S.  sceara.  evil,  cursedness. 

Sherte,  n.,  shirt.     A.  S.  scyrte.  Shright,    p.    p.;    Shrighte,    v., 

Shete,  n.,  sheet.    A.  S.  scete.  pret.,  shrieked.    From  Shrike. 

Sheter,  n.,  shooter,  fit  for  shoot-  Cf.  Shryked. 

ing.  Shryked,     v.,     pret.,     shrieked. 

Shethe,  n.,  sheath.    A.S.  scsep/.  From   Shrike.      Cf.    Shrighte. 

Shette,  v.,  shut,  enclose.     A.  8.  Shul,    Shullen,    v.,    pres.,    shall; 

scyttan.  Shulde,  v.,  pret.,  should.     See 

Sheves,  n.,  plu.,  see  Sheef.  Shal. 

Shewe,  v.,  show,  appear.     A.  S.  Shuldres,    n.,    plu.,     shoulders. 

sceawian.  A.  S.  sculdor. 

Shilde,  v.,  shield,  defend.    A.  S.  Shyne,  v.,  shine.     A.  S.  scinan. 

scyldan.  Sicamour,     n.,     sycamore.       L. 

Shine,   n.,   shin.      A.  S.   scinu.  sycomorus. 

Shipman,     n.,     sailor,     seaman.  Sigh,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  saw.    From 

A.  S.  scipmann.  See.    A.  S.  seon. 

Shippes,n.,p/w., ships.  ^.S.scip.  Sight,  Sighte,  n.,  sight.     A.  S. 

Shire,  n.,  shire.     A.  S.  scir  /.  gesiht  /. 

Shirreve,    n.,    sheriff.       A.    S.  Sighte,  v.,  pret.,  see  Syke. 

scirgerefa.  Signe,  n.,  sign.    F. 

Shivere,  v.,  shiver,  break.  Signet,   n.,    signet  ring.      O.    F. 

Sho,  n.,  see  Shoo.  Signifer:  the  zodiac. 

Shode,  n.,   crown  of  the  head.  Signifiaunce,  n.,  significance.    O. 

A.  S.  sceada.  F.  signifiance. 

Sholde,  v.,  pret.,  see  Shal.  Significavit:   the  beginning  of  a 

Sholder-boon,  n.,  shoulder  blade  writ   of  excommunication. 

bone.    A.  S.  sculdor — ban.  Signifyed,     v.,     pret.,     signified, 

Shon,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Shyne.  meant.    F.  signifier. 

Shonde,    n.,     shame,     disgrace.  Sik,  adj.,  see  Syk. 

A.  S.  sceand  /.  Siker,   adj.,    sure;   adv.,    surely, 

Shoo,  n.,  shoe.     A.  S.  sceoh.  securely.     A.  S.  sicor. 

Shoof,    t1.,    pret.    sing.,    shoved,  Sikerer,     adj.,     compar.,     more 

pushed.    From  Shove.    A.  S.  sure.    See  Siker. 

scufan.  Sikerly,   adv.,   certainly,   surely. 

Shoon,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Shyne.  Sikernesse,  n.,  security,  safety, 

Shoop,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Shape.  confidence. 

Shorte,     v.,     shorten.      A.     S.  Sikly,  adv.,  ill,  hardly,  with  ill 

scortian.  will. 


486  GLOSSARY 

Siknesse,    n.t    sickness,    illness.  Sleer,  n.,  slayer. 

A.  S.  seocness/.  Sleighly,  adv.,  see  Sleyly. 

Silla,    ScyUa:    who   for    love    of  Sleighte,    n.,    sleight,    trickery, 

Minos  cut  off  her  father's  hair        device,  plan. 

upon  which  his  life  depended,  Slepe,  v.,  sleep.     A.  S.  slaepan. 

and  who  was  therefore   trans-  Slepy,     adj.,     sleepy,     sleep-be- 

j "armed  into  a  bird.    See  Ovid,        stowing.    A.  S.  slsepig. 

Metam.,  viii,  8.  Sieve,  n.,  sleeve.     A.  S.  slef  /. 

Sillable,    n.,    syllable.      0.    F.  Sley,  adj.,   sly,   subtle.     O.    N. 

sillabe.  slsegr. 

Silver-brighte,  adj.,  plu.,  bright  Sleyly,  adv.,  slyly,  subtly,  skill- 

as  silver.  fully. 

Simon    Magus:    a    sorcerer    of  Sleyn,  p.  p.,  see  Slee. 

Samaria  (Acts  viii,  0-24).  Slinge-stones,    n.,    plu.,    sling- 
Sin,   con/.,    adv.,   since.     A.  S.        stones.     — A.  S.  stan. 

sitSSan.    Cf.  Sith,  Sithen.  Slinke,  v.,  slink,  creep.     A.  S. 
Sinne,  n.,  sin.    A.  S.  synn  /.  slincan. 

Sinoun,   Sinon:   allowed   himself  Slit,  v.,   t.hird  pers.   sing.,   pres. 

to    be    taken    prisoner    by    the        indie.,  see  Slyde. 

Trojans,   and    persuaded  them  Slogardye,  n.,  sluggishness,  sloth, 

to  admit  to  the  city  the  wooden        indolence. 

horse    which    was   filled    with  Slombrestow,    v.,    pron.,    second 

armed  men.  pers.  sing.,  pres.  indie.,  slum- 

Sir,  Sire,  n.,  sir,  master.    0.  F.        berest  thou.     A.  S.  slumerian. 

sire.  Slomeringe,  s.,  slumber.     A.  S. 
Sisoures,  n.,  plu.,  scissors.   0.  F.        slomerian. 

cisoires.  Slough,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Slee. 

Site,  n.,  site,  situation.     A.  F.  Slouthe,  n.,  sloth. 

Sith,  con;.,  since.    A.  S.  si<5(5an.  Slow,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Slee. 

Cf.  Sin,  Sithen.  Slow,  adj.,  slow,   slothful,  idle. 
Sithen,  con;'.,  adv.,  since.     A.  S.         A.  S.  slaw. 

sitSSan.     Cf.  Sin,  Sith.  Slyde,    v.,    slide,    pass.      A.   S. 
Sitte,  v.,  sit,  be  situated,  dwell,        slidan. 

befit,  suit.     A.  S.  sittan.  Smal,  adj.,  small;  adv.,  little.    A. 
Sittingest,    adj.,    superl.,    most        S.  smael. 

fitting.  Smel,  n.,  smell. 

Sixte,  ord.  num.,  sixth.     A.  S.  Smert,  adj.,  smart,  quick,  pain- 

sixta.  ful.     A.  S.  smeart. 

Skarmishe,  n.,   see   Scarmuche.  Smerte,  adv.,  smartly,  sharply. 

Skathe,  n.,  see  Scathe.  Smerte,    v.,    smart,    sting,    feel 
Skil,  n.,  reason,  cause.     O.   N.        pain.     A.  S.  smeortan. 

Skilful,  adj.,  reasonable.  Smitted,    p.    p.,    smutted,    be- 
Skilfully,  adv.,  reasonably.  smirched.     A.  S.  smittian. 

Skippe,  v.,  skip,  jump,  dance.  Smok,  n.,  smock.    A.  S.  smocc. 

Skye,  n.,  cloud.     0.   N.  sky.  Smoke,  n.,  smoke.    A.  S.  smoca. 

Slake,  v.,  slacken,  desist,  wane.  Smoklees,  adj.,  without  a  smock. 

A.  S.  slacian.  Smothe,     adj.,     smooth;     adv., 
Slakke,  adj.,  slow.    A.  S.  slaec.         smoothly.    A.  S.  smotS. 

Slawe,  Slawen,  Slayn,  p.  p.,  see  Smyler,  n.,  smiler. 

Slee.  Smyte,  v.,  smite,  strike.     A.  S. 
Slee,  v.,  slay.    A.  S.  slean.  smitan. 

Sleep,  n.,  sleep.     A.  S.  slsep.  Snewed,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  snowed. 
Sleep,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Slepe.        A.  S.  sniwan. 


GLOSSARY  487 

Snibbe,  v.,  snub,  reprove,  chide.  Somtyme,   adv.,   once,   at  some 
Snowes,  n.,   plu.,   snow-storms.        time.     A.  S.  sum — tima. 

A.  S.  snaw.  Sond,  n.,  sand.    A.  S. 

Snowte,  n.,  snout.  Sonde,  n.,  message.     A.S.  sand/. 

Sobbes,  n.,  plu.,  sobs.  Sondry,    adj.,    sundry,    various. 
Sobre,  adj.,  sober,  sedate,  staid         A.  S.  syndrig. 

O.  F.  Sone,  n.,  son.     A.  S.  sunu. 

Sobrely,  adv.,  soberly,   gravely,  Sone,    adv.,     straightway,     im- 

sadly.  mediately,  soon.     A.  S.  sona. 

Soch,  adj.,  such.     A.  S.  swylc.  Sone-in-lawe,  n.,  son-in-law.    A. 

See  Swich.  S.  sunu — in — lagu. 

Socour,     Socours,     n.,     succor,  Song,    v.,    pret.    sing.;    Songe, 

help.     O.  F.  sucurs.  Songen,  pret.  plu.;  sang.    From 

Sodein,    adj.,    prompt,    sudden.        Singe.     A.  S.  singan. 

O.  F.  sodain.  Songe,    Songen,    p.    p.,    sung. 
Sodeinly,  adv.,  suddenly.  From  Singe.     A.  S.  singan. 

Softe,    adj.,    soft,    mild;    adv.,  Sonne,  n.,  sun.    A.  S.  sunne. 

softly,  gently,  tenderly.    A.S.  Sonnish,  adj.,  sun-like. 

softe.  Sooth,  adj.,  true.     A.  S.  s63. 

Soghte,  v.,  pret.,  see  Seke.  Sooth,  n.,  truth.    A.  S.  sotS.    See 
Soiorne,  v.,  sojourn,  delay,  dwell.        Sothe. 

O.  F.  sojorner.  Soothfastnesse,  n.,  truth. 

Solace,  v.,  refresh,  comfort.     O.  Soothly,  adv.,  truly.    A.  S.  soc5- 

F.  solacier.  lice. 

Solas,    n.,    solace,    amusement,  Sooty,  adj.,  begrimed  with  soot. 

comfort.    O.  F.  A.  S.  sotig. 

Solempne,  adj.,  solemn,  festive,  Sop,  n.,  sop:  bread  or  cake  dipped 

grand,  important.     0.  F.  in  a  liquid. 

Solempnely,     adv.,     pompously,  Soper,  n.,  supper.    O.  F. 

with  pomp.  Sophyme,  n.,  a  sophism.     0.  F. 
Solempnitee,    n.,    pomp,     cere-        soffime. 

mony.      0.    F.    solempnite.  Sore,    n.,    sore,    misery,    pain. 
Soleyn,  adj.,  sole,  solitary;  un-        A.  S.  sar. 

mated.  Sore,  adj.,  sore;  adv.,  sorely.     A. 
Solitarie,  adj.,  solitary.    L.  soli-        S.  sar. 

tarius.  Sore,  v.,  soar.    0.  F.  es sorer. 

Som,  pron.,  one,  a  certain  one,  Sorowe,  n.,  see  Sorwe. 

some  one.     A.  S.   sum.     Al  Sort,    n.,    lot,    destiny,    chance. 

and  som,  one  and  all  (all  and        0.  F. 

each).    Tenthe  som,  company  Sorwe,  n.,  sorrow,  grief.     A.  S. 

of  ten.  sorh/. 

Somdel,  adv.,  somewhat.    A.  S.  Sorweful,  adj.,  sorrowful.    A.  S. 

sum — dael.  sorgful. 

Somer,  n.,  summer.  A.S.  sumor.  Sorwefully,  adv.,  sorrowfully. 

Somer-sonne,  n.,   summer  sun.  Sorwful,  adj.,  see  Sorweful. 

A.  S.  sumor — sunne.  Sory,  adj.,  sorrowful,  sad,  miser- 
Somme,  adj.,   plu.,  see  Som.  able.     A.  S.  sarig. 

Somme,  .n.,  sum,  total.     O.  F.  Sote,  adj.,  sweet.     A.  S.  swot. 

some.  Soth,  adj.,  see  Sooth. 

Somnour,     n.,     summoner:     an  Sothe, n.,  truth.     A.S.  so<5.    See 

officer    who    summoned    delin-        Sooth. 

quents   before  the  ecclesiastical  Soth-sawe,  n.,  true  saying.     A. 

courts.    O.  F.  semoneor.  S.  sotS — sagu. 


488  GLOSSARY 

Sotil,  adj.,  subtle,  cunning,  thin.  Sparwe,    n.,    sparrow.      A.    S. 

0.  F.  soutU.  spearwa. 

Souded,  p.  p.,  confirmed.    0.  F.  Spayne,  Spain. 

souder.  Spece,  n.,  species,  kind.     O.  F. 
Soughte,  v.,  pret.,  see  Seke.  espece. 

Souke,  v.,  suck.     A.  S.  sucan.  Speche,    n.,    speech,    discourse, 
Soule,  n.,  soul.    A.  S.  sawl /.  talk,  address.     A.  S.  spsec/. 

Soulfre,    n.,    sulphur.      A.    F.  Specially,  adv.,  especially. 

sulfre.  Spede,     v.,     succeed,     prosper, 
Soun,  n.,  sound,  musical  sound.        hasten.     A.  S.  spedan. 

0.  F.  son.  Speed,  n.,  help,  success.     A.  S. 
Soune,    v.,    sound,    utter,    tend        sped. 

(toward),  be  consonant  with,  Speke,  v.,  speak.    A.  S.  specan. 

agree  with.    0.  F.  soner.  Spere,  n.,  spear.     A.  S. 

Soupe,  v.,  sup.     O.  F.  soper.  Spere,  n.,  sphere.    O.  F.  espere. 

Souper,  n.,  see  Soper.  Sperhauk,  n.,  sparrowhawk.    A. 
Souple,  n.,  supple,  pliant.    0.  F.        S.  spearhafoc. 

sople.  Sperred,  p.  p.,  barred,  fastened. 
Soures,  n.,  plu.,  sorrels,  bucks        A.  S.  gesparrian. 

of  the  third  year.    O.  F.  sorel.  Spete,  v.,  spit.     A.  S.  spittan. 
Sours,  n.,  source,  origin,  soaring,        See  Spitte. 

swift   upward    flight.      0.    F.  Spille,   v.,   destroy,   perish,   put 

sors.  to    confusion,    drop.      A.    S. 

Soutiltee,    n.,    device.      0.    F.        spillan. 

sutilte.  Spitte,  v.,  spit.     A.  S.  spittan. 
Soverainetee,  Soveraynetee,  n.,        See  Spete. 

sovereignty,    supremacy.      O.  Spones,  n.,  plu.  spoons.     A.  S. 

F.  sovrainete.  spon. 

Sovereyn,    adj.,    sovereign,    su-  Spore,  n.,  spur.     A.  S.  spora. 

preme,  chief.     0.  F.  sovrain.  Sporne,   v.,   spurn,   kick,   tread. 
Sovereynly,  adv.,  royally,  chiefly.        A.  S.  spurnan. 

Sowe,  n.,  sow.     A.  S.  sugu.  Spousaille,  n.,  espousal,  wedding. 
Sowe,  v.,  sew.    A.  S.  siowian.  0.  F.  espousailles  (plu.). 

Sowe,  v.,  sow.    A.  S.  sawan.  Spouse,  n.,  spouse.    O.  F.  epous 
Sowle,  n.,  see  Soule.  (masc.),  epouse  (fern.}. 

Sowne,  v.,  see  Soune.  Sprad,  p.  p.;  Spradde,  v.,  pret.; 
Space,  n.,  room,  space  of  time,        see  Sprede. 

while,     opportunity.      O.    F.  Sprede,  v.,  spread,  open.    A.  S. 

espace.  sprsedan. 

Spade,  n.,  spade.     A.  S.  spada.  Spreynd,  p.  p.,  see  Springe  (weak 
Spak,  i'.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Speke.  verb).     Cf.  Y-spreynd. 

Spanne,  n.,  span.     A.  S.  spann  Springe,  v.,   strong.,   spring  up, 

/.  rise,   grow.     A.  S.   springan. 

Span-newe,      adj.,      span-new,  Springe,     v.,     weak,     sprinkle, 

brand  new.  scatter.     A.  S.  sprengan. 

Spare,  v.,  spare,  refrain,    cease,  Springes,  n.,  plu.,  springs,  merry 

pass  over.     A.  S.  sparian.  dances. 

Sparhauk,  n.,  see  Sperhawk.  Spronge,     p.     p.,     see     Springe 
Sparke,  n.,  spark.    A.S.speaica.        (strong  verb). 

Sparowe,  n.,  *ee  Sparwe.  Spyce,  n.,  spice.    O.  F.  espice. 

Sparre,  n.,  wooden  beam.  Spyced,   p.   p.,   spiced,    scrupu- 
Sparth,  n.,   battle-axe.     0.    N.        lous. 

spartSa.  Spycerye,  n.,  collection  of  spices, 


GLOSSARY 


489 


mixture    of    spices.      0.    F. 

espicerie. 

Spye,  n.,  spy.    O.  F.  espie. 
Squerels,     n.,     plu.,     squirrels. 

0.  F.  esquireul. 
Squyer,  n.,   squire.     O.   F.   es- 

quier. 

Stable,  n.,  stable.     0.  F. 
Stablissed,    p.    p.,    established. 

0.  F.  establir. 
Stace,  Statius. 
Staf,  n.,  staff.    A.  S.  staef. 
Stage,  n.,  place,  position.    O.  F. 

estage. 

Stak,  v.,  pre/.  sw0.,  see  Stike. 
Stal,  n.,  stall.     A.  S.  steall. 
Stal,  ».,  prei.  sing.,  see  Stele. 
Stalke,  n.,  stalk,  piece  of  straw. 
Stalke,     v.,     creep     up,     move 

stealthily,  move  slowly.    A.  S. 

stalcian. 

Stalle,  n.,  dot.,  see  Stal. 
Stampe,  v.,  stamp,  crush,  strike. 

A.  S.  stempan. 
Stape,  p.  p.,  advanced.     A.  S. 

stapan. 

Stare,  n.,  starling.     A.  S.  staer. 
Starf,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Sterve. 
Stark,  adj.,  strong.    A.  S.  stearc. 
Startling,  pres.  partic.,  starting, 

moving  suddenly. 
Stat,   n.,   estate.     0.   F.   estat. 

See  Estaat. 
Statut,  n.,  statute.     0.  F.  es- 

tatut. 

Staves,  n.,  plu.,  see  Staf. 
Stede,  n.,  place.     A.  S. 
Stede,  n.,  steed.     A.  S.  steda. 
Stedfast,  adj.,  steadfast.     A.  S. 

stedefaest. 

Stedfastly,  adv.,  steadfastly. 
Stedfastnesse,     n.,     constancy, 

stability. 

Steel,  n.,  steel.    A.  S.  stel. 
Stele,    v.,    steal,    go    stealthily. 

A.  S.  stelan. 
Stellifye,    v.,    transform    into    a 

star  or  constellation.     0.  F. 

stellifier. 
Sterne,  v.,  shine,  glow.     A.  S. 

steman. 
Stente,  v.,  leave  off,  cease,  stop. 

A.  S.  styntan.    See  Stinte. 


Stepe,     adj.,     plu.,    prominent, 

staring.    A.  S.  steap. 
Stere,  n.,  helm,  rudder;  helms- 
man, pilot.     A.  S.  steora. 
Stere,    v.,    steer,    rule.      A.    S. 

stieran. 
Stere,  v.,  stir,  move,  excite.  A.  S. 

styrian. 
Steringe,    s.,    stirring,    motion. 

A.  S.  styrian. 

Sterlinges,  n.,  plu.,  sterling  coins. 
Sterne,  adj.,  stern,  violent.     A. 

S.  styrne. 
Sterre,  n.,  star,  planet.     A.  S. 

steorra. 

Sterry,  adj.,  starry. 
Stert,  n.,  start,  moment. 
Sterte,    v.,    start,    go    quickly, 

rouse.      A.   S.    styrtan.     See 

Stirte. 

Sterve,  ».,  die.  A.  S.  steorfan. 
Stevene,  n.,  voice,  sound,  lan- 
guage, talk,  time.  A.  S.  stefn/. 
Stewe,  n.,  fish-pond.  0.  F.  estui. 
Stewe,  n.,  small  room,  brothel. 

0.  F.  estuve. 
Stewe-dore,  n.,  closet  door.     O. 

F.  estuve — A.  S.  duru. 
Steyre,  n.,  stair,  staircase.     A. 

S.  staeger  /. 
Stiborn,  adj.,  stubborn. 
Stif,  adj.,  strong.     A.  S.  stif. 
Stike,  v.,  stick,  pierce.     A.  S. 

stician. 
Stikke,  n.,  stick,  twig.     A.  S. 

sticca. 
Stilbon:  ordinarily  Mercury,  but 

as  Chaucer  uses  the  name  it  is 

an  error  for  Chilon  mentioned 

by  John  of  Salisbury. 
Stille,   adj.,    still,    mute,    silent; 

adv.,  still.    A.  S. 
Stinte,  v.,  leave  off,  cease,  stop. 

A.  S.  styntan.    See  Stente. 
Stire,  v.,  see  Stere. 
Stirte,    v.,    start,     go    quickly. 

A.  S.  styrtan.  See  Sterte. 
Stith,  n.,  anvil.  O.  N.  steo'i. 
Stiwardes,  n.,  plu.,  stewards. 

A.  S.  stiweard. 
Stix,  Styx:  a  river  in  the  Nether 

World. 
Stod,  t>.5  pret.  sing.^  set  Stonde. 


490  GLOSSARY 

Stok,    n.,    stock,    stump,    post.  Streite,   p.   p.   as  adj.,   drawn. 

A.S.  stocc.  Cf.  Strecche. 

Stoke,  v.,  stab,  thrust.  Streme,  v.,  stream. 

Stomble,  v.,  stumble.  Streng,  n.,  string.    A.  S.  streng. 

Ston,  71.,  see  Stoon.  Strenger,  adj.,  compar.,  stronger. 

Stonde,  v.,  stand,  abide  by.    A.  Strengest,  adj.,  superl.,  strongest. 

S.  standan.  Strengthe,    n.,    strength,    force. 

Stongen,    p.    p.,    stung.      From  A.  S.  strengtSu. 

Stinge.     A.  S.   stingan.     Cf.  Strepe,  v.,  strip.    A.  S.  strypan. 

Y-stonge.  Strete,  n.,  street,  road.     A.  S. 

Stoon,  n.,  stone,  rock,  gem.     A.  strat  /. 

S.  stan.  Streyne,    v.,    compress,    strain, 

Stoor,  n.,   store,   stock.     O.   F.  constrain,    hold.      0.    F.    es- 

estor.  streindre. 

Storie,  n.,   history,   tale,   story.  Streyt,  adv.,  see  Streight,  Streit. 

0.  F.  estorie.  Strike,  n.,  hank. 

Storfen,     v.,     pret.     plu.,      see  Strode,  Ralph  Strode:  a  philos- 

Sterve.  opher  of  Chaucer's  time,  follower 

Stot,  n.,  stallion,  horse,   cob.  of    the    doctrines    of    Albertus 

Stounde,  n.,  hour,  time,  while.  Magnus    and    Aquinas,     and 

A.  S.  stund  /.  opponent  of  Wy cliff e  (especially 

Stoundemele,  at  various  times,  in  Wycliffe's  doctrine  of  pre- 

from    time    to    time.      A.   S.  destination). 

stundmaelum.  Strogelest,  v.,  second  person  sing., 

Stoupe,  v.,  stoop,  droop.     A.  S.  pres.  indie.,  see  Strugle. 

stupian.  Strond,  n.,  strand,  shore.    A.  S. 

Stout,  adj.,  strong,  bold.    0.  F.  strand. 

estout.  Stroof,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Stryve. 

Strake,  v.,  move,  proceed.  Strook,  n.,  stroke. 

Stratford  atte  Bowe,  Stratford  at  Stroyer,  n.,  destroyer. 

Bow:  a  Benedictine  nunnery  in  Strugle,  v.,  struggle. 

London.  Stryf,  n.,  strife.     O.  F.  estrif. 

Straught,  p.  p.,  as  adv.,  straight.  Stryve,    v.t    strive.      0.   F.    es- 

See  Strecche.  triver. 

Straughte,  v.,  pret.,  see  Strecche.  Stubbes,  n.,  plu.,  stubs.     A.  S. 

Straunge,  adj.,  strange,  foreign,  stub. 

difficult,   distant.     0.   F.   es-  Studie,    n.,    study,    meditation. 

strange.  O.  F.  estudie. 

Straungely,  adv.,  distantly.  Studie,    v.,    study,    give    heed, 

Straw,  lakke:    See  lakke.  deliberate.     O.  F.  estudier. 

Strecche,  v.,  stretch,  reach,  ex-  Studye,  n.,  see  Studie. 

tend.     A.  S.  streccan.  Sturdinesse,  n.,  sternness. 

Stree,  n.,  straw.     A.  S.  streaw.  Sturdy,  adj.,  stern,  cruel,  harsh. 

Streem,  n.,  river,  current,  stream.  O.  F.  estourdi. 

A.  S.  stream.  Style,  n.,  stile.     A.  S.  stigel  /. 

Streight,    adj.,     straight;     adv.,  Style,  n.,  style,  mode  of  writing. 

straight,  straightway.     A.  S.  0.  F.  stile. 

streht.  Subgit,    n.,     subjects.      0.    F. 

Streighte,  v.,  pret.,  see  Strecche.  subget. 

Streit,  adj.,  narrow,  strict.    A.  F.  Substaunce,  n.,  substance,  that 

estreit.  which  is  substantial,  the  thing 

Streit,  adv.,  closely.     0.  F.  es-  itself  (cf.  Accident),  the  ma- 

treit.  jority.     O.  F.  substance. 


GLOSSARY  491 

Subtil,    adj.,    subtle,    ingenious,  Swerd,  n.,  sword.    A.  S.  sweord. 

skillful.    O.  F.  Swere,  v.,  swear.    A.  S.  swerian. 

Subtiltee,  n.,  subtlety,  specious  Swete,  adj.,  sweet.    A.  S.  swete. 

reasoning,  trick.     O.  F.  sou-  Swete,  v.t  sweat.    A.  S.  swsetan. 

tilte.  Swetnesse,  n.,  sweetness.    A.  S. 
Successour,        n.,        successor,        swetness/. 

follower.     0.  F.  successor.  Sweven,     n.,     dream.       A.    S. 
Suffisaunce,       n.,       sufficiency,         swefen. 

enough,    competency.     O.   F.  Sweynte,    p.    p.    as   adj.,    tired 
Suffisaunt,  adj.,  sufficient,  able.        out,  exhausted,  slothful.    From 

O.  F.  soufisant.  Swenche.     A.  S.  swencan. 

Suffraunce,  n.,  longsuffering,  pa-  Swich,  adj.,  such.     A.  S.  swilc. 

tience.    O.  F.  sufrance.  Swiche   sevene,   seven   times 

Suffraunt,    adj.,    patient,    toler-        as  many. 

ant.     A.  F.  suffrant.  Swink,   n.,   labor,    toil.      A.   S. 
Suffre,  v.,  suffer,  permit.    0.  F.        (ge)  swine. 

sufrir.  Swinke,  v.,  labor,  toil.     A.  S. 
Suffyse,    v.,    suffice,    be    able.        swincan. 

O.  F.  suffire.  Swinker,  n.,  laborer. 

Superfluitee,  n.,  superfluity,  ex-  Swogh,  n.,  sough,  low  noise,  mur- 

cess.    0.  F.  superfluite.  mur;  swoon,  state  of  collapse. 

Supprysed,     p.     p.,     surprised.  Swollen,  p.  p.,  see  Swelle. 

From  Suppryse.     0.  F.   sou-  Swommen,  v.,  pret.  plu.,  swam, 

prendre.  were    filled    with    swimming 

Surcote,  n.,  surcoat,  upper  coat.        things.     From   Swimme.     A. 

O.  F.  S.  swimman. 

Surgerye,    n.,    surgery.      O.    F.  Swonken,  p.  p.,  see  Swinke. 

surgerie.  Swoor,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Swere. 

Suspecioun,  n.,  suspicion.    O.  F.  Swote,  adj.,  sweet.    A.  S.  swot. 

suspecion.  Swote,    adv.t    sweetly.      A.    S. 
Suspect,   n.,    suspicion.      L.    L.        swote. 

suspectus.  Swough,  n.,  see  Swogh. 

Sustene,    v.,    sustain,    support,  Swoune,  v.,  swoon,  faint.    A.  S. 

maintain.     O.   F.   sustenir.  swogan. 

Suster,  n.,  sister.    A.  S.  swuster.  Swow,  n.,  see  Swogh. 

Sustren,  n.,  plu.,  see  Suster.  Swowne,  v.,  see  Swoune. 

Sute,  n.,  see  Suyte.  Swyn,  n.,   swine,  boar.     A.  S. 
Suwe,  v.,  see  Sewe.  swin. 

Suyte,  n.,   suit,   array,   uniform  Swythe,  adv.,   quickly,   immedi- 

pattern.    O.  F.  siute.  ately.     A.  S.  swi?5e. 

Swal,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Swelle.  Sy,  v.,  pret.   sing.,   saw.      From 
Swalowe,  Swalwe,  n.,  swallow.        See.     A.  S.  seon. 

A.  S.  swealwe.  Syde,  n.,  side.    A.  S.  side. 

Swappe,  n.,  swoop.  Sye,  v.,  sink  down.    A.  S.  sigan. 

Swappe,  v.,  strike,  dash.  Syghes,  n.,  see  Syk. 

Swapte,  v.,  pret.,  see  Swappe.  Syk,    adj.,    sick.      A.    S.    seoc. 
Swartish,    adj.,    darkish,    dark.        See  Seek. 

Swatte,  v.,  pret.,  see  Swete.  Syk,  n.,  sigh. 

Swelle,  v.,  swell.    A.  S.  swellan.  Syke,  v.,  sigh.     A.  S.  sican. 

Swelte,  v.,  die,  languish.     A.  S.  Sykliche,  adj.,  sickly,  ill. 

sweltan.  Syre,  n.,  see  Sire. 

Swelwe,    v.,    swallow.      A.    S.  Sythe,  n.,  time.    A.  S.  si?5.  Ofte 

swelgan.  sythe,  oftentimes. 


492  GLOSSARY 

Telle,    v.,    tell,    recount,    relate, 

count.     A.  S.  tellan. 

Tabard,  w.,  a  short  coat,  some-  Tembrace,  To  embrace. 

times  sleeveless;   the  coat  of  Teme,  v.,  bring.     A.  S.  teman. 

a  herald  with  a  coat  of  arms.  Tempestous,  adj.,  tempestuous. 

O.  F.  A.  F. 

Tabard,  the  Tabard  Inn.  Temple,  n.,  temple,  inn  of  court. 

Tabernacle,       n.,       tabernacle,  O.  F. 

shrine.    F.  Tenbrace,  To  embrace,  see  En- 
Table,    n.,    table,    tablet.      F.  brace. 

Table     dormant,     permanent  Tendre,  adj.,   tender.     O.  F. 

side  table.  Tables,  plu.,  tables,  Tendrely,  adv.,  tenderly. 

the  game  of  "tables"  or  back-  Tendyte,       To       endyte,       see 

gammon.  Endyte. 

Tabreyde,     To      abreyde,     see  Tene,  n.,  vexation,  grief.    A.  S. 

Abreyde.  teona. 

Tabyde,  To  abyde,  see  Abyde.  Tente,  n.,  tent.     0.  F. 

Tacoye,  To  acoye,  see  Acoye.  Tentifly,  adv.,  attentively,  care- 

Taffraye,  To  affraye,  see  Affraye.  fully. 

Taille,  n.,  tally.    F.  Tercel,  adj.,  male.     O.  F. 

Tak,    v.,    imper.,    take.      From  Tercelet,  n.,  male  falcon.    O.  F. 

Take.     A.  S.  tacan.  tiercelet. 

Takel,  n.,  tackle,   archery-gear.  Terciane,    adj.,    tertian,    recur- 

Tale,  n.,   tale,   story,   enumera-  ring  every  other  day.     O.  F. 

tion.     A.  S.  talu.  tiercain. 

Tale,  v.,  tell,  talk,  speak.    A.  S.  Tere,  n.,  tear.     A.  S.  tear. 

talian.  Tere,  v.,  tear.    A.  S.  teran. 

Talent,  n.,  inclination,  wish,  de-  Tereus:  husband  of  Procne  and 

sire.    0.  F.  Philomela. 

Talighte,  To  alighte,  see  Alighte.  Terme,  n.,  set  time,  period,  set 

Tantale,  Tantalus.  phrase,  limit.     O.  F. 

Tapicer,  n.,  upholsterer,  maker  Terme-day,  n.,   day  appointed. 

of  carpets.     O.  F.  tapicier.  O.  F.  terme — A.  S.  daeg. 

Tapite,  v.,  cover  with  tapestry.  Termyne,  v.,  determine,  express 

0.  F.  tapissier.  in  set  terms.     F.  terminer. 

Tappestere,  n.,   female  tapster,  Tertulan,   Tertullian:    a   Church 

barmaid.    A.  S.  taeppestre.  Father  (c.  155-0.  222},  author 

Tare,  n.,  tare,  kind  of  weed.  of  treatises  on  chastity. 

Targe,  n.,  target,  shield.    O.  F.  Tery,  adj.,  teary.     A.  S.  tearig. 

Tarraye,  To  arraye,  see  Arayed.  Tespye,  To  espye,  see  Espye. 

Tars,  Tartarye,  Tartary.  Testif,  adj.,  headstrong.     A.  F. 

Taryinge,  s.,  tarrying,  delay.    A.  Tewnes,  Tunis. 

5.  tergan.  Thalighte,     Thee     alighte,     see 

Tas,  n.,  heap.     O.  F.  Alighte. 

Tassaille,  To  assaille.  Thank,  n.,  expression  of  thanks. 

Tassaye,  To  assaye,  see  Assaye.  A.  S.  bane.    His  thankes,  of 

Tassoille,  To  assoflle,  see  AssoiUe.  his  free  will,  willingly. 

Tast,  n.,  taste,  relish  for.    O.  F.  Thanne,  adv.,  then,  than.    A.  S. 

Taverne,  n.,  tavern.    0.  F.  banne. 

Tecches,  n.,  plu.,  evil  qualities,  Thapocalips,  The  Apocalypse. 

defects.    O.  F.  teche.  Thaqueintaunce,     The     aquein- 

Teche,   v.,    teach,    instruct,    in-  taunce,    see    Aqueyntaunce. 

form.     A.  S.  tsecean.  Thar,  v.,  pres.  sing.,  impers.,  is 


GLOSSARY 


493 


necessary,  is  needful.  A.  S. 
purfan. 

Tharivaile,  The  arivaile,  see 
Arivaile. 

Tharray,  The  array,  see  Aray. 

Thascry,  The  ascry,  see  Ascry. 

Thassay,  The  assay,  see  Assay. 

Thassege,  The  assege,  see  As- 
sege. 

Thaventayle,  The  aventayle,  see 
Aventaille. 

Thavisioun,  The  avisioun,  see 
Avisioun. 

The,  pers.  pron.,  thee. 

Thee,  v.,  prosper,  thrive.  A.  S. 
peon. 

Theef,  n.,  thief,  robber.  A.  S. 
peof. 

Thembassadours,  The  embassa- 
dours,  see  Embassadour. 

Then,  conj.,  than.     A.  S.  paenne. 

Thencens,  The  encens,  see  En- 
cens. 

Thencrees,  The  encrees,  see 
Encrees. 

Thende,  The  ende,  see  Ende. 

Thenke,  v.,  think.  A.  S. 
pencan. 

Thenne,  adv.,  then.    See  Thanne. 

Thennes,  adv.,  thence,  from 
that  place. 

Thentente,  The  entente,  see 
Entente. 

Thentree,  The  entree,  see  Entree. 

Thenvyous,  The  envyous,  see 
Envyous. 

Theodamas,  probably  Thiodamas 
in  the  Thebaid  (viii,  x). 

Theofraste,  Theophrastus:  dis- 
ciple of  Aristotle,  author  of  a 
treatise  on  marriage,  of  which 
a  fragment  is  preserved  in  Je- 
rome's treatise  against  Jovin- 
ian.  See  Seint  lerome. 

Ther,  adv.,  there,  where,  where- 
fore, wherever.  A.  S.  pser. 

Ther-aboute,  adv.,  concerned 
with  that,  about  it,  round  it. 
A.  S.  pser— abutan. 

Ther-biforn,  adv.,  beforehand, 
previously.  A.  S.  par — 
beforan. 

Therfro,  adv.,  therefrom. 


Ther-inne,  adv.,  therein.     A.  S. 

pser — nine. 

Ther-oute,  adv.,  out  there,  out- 
side there.     A.  S.  paer — ute. 
Thesiphone,  Tisiphone:  a  Fury. 
Thewes,  n.,  habit,  natural  qual- 
ity, virtue.     A.  S.  peaw. 
Thider,    adv.,    thither.      A.    S. 

pider. 

Thiderward,  adv.,  thither. 
Thikke,     adj.,     thick.       A.    S. 

J>icce. 

Thikke-herd,  adj.,  thick-haired. 
Thilke,  pron.,  that  same,  that. 

A.  S.  J>ylc. 
Thing,   n.,   thing,   fact.      A.   S. 

ping.    Make  a  thing,  draw  up 

a  legal  document. 
Thinke,  v.,  seem.    A.  S.  pyncan. 
Thinne,  adj.,  thin.    A.  S.  pynne. 
Thirle,  v.,  pierce.    A.  S.  pyrlian. 
Tho,  pron.,  plu.,  those.     A.  S. 

pa. 
Tho,  adv.,   then,   at  that  time. 

A.  S.  pa. 

Thogh,  conj.,  though. 
Thoght,  n.,  thought,  anxiety.    A. 

S.  poht. 
Thoghte,  v.,  pret.,   see   Thenke, 

Thinke. 

Tholosan,  of  Toulouse. 
Thombe,    n.,    thumb.      A.    S. 

puma. 
Thonder,    n.,    thunder.      A.   S. 

punor. 
Thonke,  v.,  thank.     A.  S.  pan- 

cian. 

Thonour,  The  honour. 
Thorgh,  prep.,  through.     A.  S. 

purh. 
Thorisoun,  The  orisoun,  sec  Ori- 

soun. 

Thorp,  n.,  village.     A.  S.  porp. 
Thought,  n.,  see  Thoght. 
Thoughte,  v.,  pret.,  see  Thenke, 

Thinke. 
Thral,  n.,  thrall,  slave,  subject. 

A.  S.  prael. 
Thral,  ad/,,  subject. 
Thralle,  v.,  subject. 
Thraste,  v.,  pret.,  see  Threste. 
Thredbar,  adj.,  threadbare.     A. 

S.  prad— bser. 


494  GLOSSARY 

Threed,  n.,  thread.    A.  S.  prsed.  Tiptoon,  n.,  plu.,  tiptoes.    — A. 

Threshfold,  n.,  threshold.    A.  S.  S.  ta. 

perscwold.  Tissew,  n.,  tissue.     0.  F.  tissu. 

Thresshe,    v.,    thrash.      A.    S.  Tit,  v.,   third  pers.    sing.,    pres. 

perscan.  indie.,  see  Tyde. 

Threste,  v.,  thrust,  push.    A.  S.  Title,  n.,  title,  name,  pretence. 

prsestan.  O.  F. 

Threte,    v.,    threaten.      A.    S.  To,  adv.,  too.     A.  S. 

preatian.  Toas,  Thoas. 

Thridde,  ord.  num.,  third.    A.  S.  To-bete,  v.,  beat  severely.    A.  S. 

pridda.  to — beatan. 

Thrift,  n.,   success,   profit,  wel-  To-breke,    v.,    break   in   pieces. 

fare.  A.  S.  to — brecan. 

Thriftily,  adv.,  profitably,  care-  To-breste,    v.,    burst    in    twain, 

fully.  break  in  pieces.     A.  S.  to — 

Thrifty,  adj.,  profitable.  berstan. 

Thringe,  i'.,  press.    A.S.  pringan.  To-cleve,    v.,    cleave    in    twain. 

Thriste,  v.,  thrust.    O.  N.  prysta  A.  S.  to — cleofan. 

C/.  Threste.  To-dasshed,  p.  p.,  dashed  vio- 

Throp,  n.,  see  Thorp.  lently,  much  bruised. 

Throstel,     n.,     throstle,     song-  To-forn,   prep.,    before.      A.   S. 

thrush.     A.  S.  prostle.  toforan. 

Throte,  n.,  throat.    A.  S.  protu.  Togeder,  adv.,  together.     A.  S. 

Throwe,  n.,  while,  period.    A.  S.  to-gaedere. 

prag  /.  To-hange,  v.,  hang  thoroughly, 

Throwes,  n.,   plu.,   throes,   tor-  put    to    death    by    hanging. 

ments.    A.  S.  praw.  A.  S.  to — hangian. 

Thrye,  adv.,  thrice.    A.  S.  priga.  To-hewe,  v.,  hew  in  twain,  cut 

Thryes,  adv.,  thrice.  in  pieces.     A.  S.  to — heawan. 

Thryve,  ».,  thrive.  Toke,  v.,  second  pers.  sing.,  pret. 

Thundringe,  n.,  thundering.  indie.,  tookest;  pret.  plu.,  took. 

Thurfte,  v.,  pret.,  see  Thar.  From    Take.      A.    S.    tacan. 

Thurgh,  prep.,  see  Thorgh.  See  Tak. 

Thurgh-darted,  p.  p.,  transfixed  To-laughe,  v.,  laugh  excessively. 

with  a  dart.  A.  S.  to — hliehhan. 

Thuighfare,     n.,     thoroughfare.  Tolle,  v.,  take  toll. 

A.  S.  Jrorh — faru.  Tombesteres,    n.,    plu.,    female 

Thurgh-girt,      p.      p.,      pierced  tumblers,  dancing  girls. 

through.  To-melte,  v.,  melt  utterly.    A.  S. 

Thurghoute,    prep.,   throughout.  to — meltan. 

A.  S.  purh — ute.  To-morwe,  n.,   to-morrow.     A. 

Thurgh-shoten,      p.      p.,     shot  S.  to — morgen. 

through.    A.S.^tA — sceotan.  Tonge,  n.,  tongue,  speech.     A. 

Thurste,  v.,  thirst.     A.  S.  pyr-  S.  tunge. 

stan.  Tonged,  adj.,   tongued. 

Thwyte,  ».,  whittle,  cut  up.    A.  Tonne,  n.,   tun,  barrel.     A.  S. 

S.  pwitan.  tunne. 

Tideus,  Tydeus.  Tonne-greet,  adj.,  great  as  a  tun. 

Tikelnesse,  n.,  ticklishness,  in-  A.  S.  tunne — great. 

security,  uncertainty.  Toon,  n.,  plu.,  toes.     A.  S.  ta. 

Tikle,  v.,  tickle.  To-race,  v.,  tear  in  pieces. 

Tipet,  n.,  tippet,  cape.     A.  S.  Torche,  n.,   torch.     O.  F. 

taeppet  To-rende,    v.,    rend    in    twain, 


GLOSSARY  495 

rend    in    pieces.      A.    S.    to-  Trayse,  v.,  betray.    0.  F.  trair. 

rendan.  Trayteresse,  n.,  traitress.    0.  F. 

To-rente,  v.,  pret.,  see  To-rende.  traitresse. 

Torets,    n.,    plu.,    rings   on   the  Traytour,    n.,    traitor.      O.    F. 

collars  of  dogs.     O.  F.  toret.  traitor. 

Torn,  n.,  turn.     A.  F.  tourn.  Trecherye,  n.,  treachery,  trick- 
Tome,  v.,  turn.    O.  F.  torner.  ery.    0.  F.  trecherie. 
Torney,  n.,  tourney.  0.  F.  tornei.  Trede,  v.,  tread.     A.  S.  tredan. 
To-shivered,    p.    p.,    broken    to  Tregetour,  n.,  juggler,  magician. 

pieces.  O.  F.  tresgeteor. 

To-shrede,  v.,   cut  into  shreds.  Tresor,  n.,  treasure.    0.  F. 

A.  S.  to — screadian.  Tresorere,  n.,  treasurer.     O.  F. 

To-sterte,     v.,     start     asunder,  tresorier. 

burst.    A.  S.  styrtan.  Tresorie,  n.,  treasury.    0.  F. 

To-swinke,     v.,     labor    greatly.  Tresoun,  n.,  treason,  treachery. 

A.  S.  to — swincan.  O.  F.  traison. 

To-tere,  v.,  tear  in  pieces,  rend.  Tresse,  n.,  plait  of  hair,  tress. 

A.  S.  toteran.  O.  F.  trece. 

Tough,   adj.,    troublesome,    per-  Tretable,  adj.,  tractable,  docile. 

tinacious,  difficult.     A.  S.  toh.  F.  traitable. 

Make    it   tough,   be   trouble-  Trete,   v.,    treat,    treat   of,    tell, 

some,  be  pertinacious.  discourse.      O.    F.    traitier. 

Tombe,  n.,  tomb.    0.  F.  Tretee,  n.,  treaty.    0.  F.  traitie. 

Toun,  n.,  town.    A.  S.  tun.  Tretis,  n.,   treaty,   treatise,   ac- 

Tour,  n.,  tower.    0.  F.  tur.  count.     A.  F.  tretiz. 

Touret,  n.,  turret.    0.  F.  torete.  Tretys,  adj.,  graceful,  well-pro- 

To-yere,  adv.,  this  year.     A.  S.  portioned.    O.  F.  tretis. 

to — gear.  Trewe,  adj.,  true,  honest.    A.  S. 

Trace,  Thrace.  treowe. 

Trad,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Trede.  Trewe,  n.,  truce.    A .  S.  treow  /. 

Traisoun,  n.,  see  Tresoun.  Trewely,    Trewly,    adv.,     truly, 

Traiterye,  n.,  treachery.  certainly.     A.  S.  treowlice. 

Tramissene,  Tremessen:oMoor-  Treye,  adj.,  three.    0.  F.  trei. 

ish  kingdom  in  Africa.  Triacle,    n.,    sovereign    remedy. 

Translate,  v.,  translate,  change.  0.  F. 

F.  translator.  Trist,  n.,  trust. 

Transmutacioun,  n.,  change.    F.  Triste,  n.,  tryst,  station.    O.  F. 

transmutation.  Triste,  v.,  trust. 

Transmuwe,  v.,   transform.     F.  Troden,  v.,  pret.  plu.;  p.  p.;  see 

transmuer.  Trede. 

Trappe,    n.,    trap,    snare,    trap-  Trompe,  n.,  trumpet,  trumpeter. 

door.     A.  S.  treppe.  0.  F. 

Trapped,  p.  p.,   furnished  with  Tronchoun,  n.,  broken  shaft  of 

trappings.  a  spear.     O.  F.  tronchon. 

Traunce,    n.,     trance.      O.     F.  Trone,  n.,  throne.     O.  F. 

transe.  Trotula:  this  author  has  not  been 

Traunce,  v.,  tramp  about.  satisfactorily  identified. 

Travaile,  n.,  labor,  toil.     0.  F.  Trouble,     adj.,     troubled,     dis- 

travaille.  turbed,  anxious.    O.  F. 

Travaile,  v.,   labor.     0.  F.  tra-  Trouthe,  n.,  truth,  troth.    A.  S. 

vaillier.  treowS  /. 

Trays,  n.,   plu.,   traces.     O.   F.  Trowe,  v.,  believe,  trust.     A.  S. 

trais.  treowian. 


496  GLOSSARY 

Troyan,  Trojan.  lation,     the    Ephemeris    Belli 

Troyanisshe,  Trojan.  Trojani. 

Troye,  Troy.  TT 

Trunipe,  v.,  blow  the  trumpet. 

O.  F.  tromper.  Unavysed,  p.  p.,  unadvised,  un- 
Trussed,  p.  p.,  packed.     O.  F.        aware.      A.   S.   un — aviser. 

trousser.  Unbodie,  v.,  leave  the  body. 

Truwe,  n.,  see  Trewe.  Unbokele,  v.,  unbuckle.      A.  S. 
Tuel,  n.,  pipe,  slender  chimney.        un— F.  bocler. 

O.  F.  Unbrent,  p.  p.,  unburnt.     A.  S. 
Tukked,  p.  p.,  tucked.  un — O.   N.  brenna. 

Tullius,  M.  Tullius  Cicero.  Unbroyden,    p.    p.,    unbraided. 
Turkye,  Turkey.  A.  S.  un— bregdan. 

Turneyinge,  s.,  tournament.    0.  Uncommitted,    p.    p.,    not    en- 

F.  torneier.  trusted  to  one.     A.  S.  un — 

Turtel,  n.,   turtle-dove.     A.  S.        L.  committere. 

turtle.  Uncouth,  adj.,  strange,  foreign. 
Twelf,  adj.,  twelve.    A.  S.  twelf.        A.  S.  uncutS. 

Twelfmonth,    n.,    twelvemonth,  Undergrowe,  p.    p.   as   adj.,    of 

year.    A.  S.  twelf — monaS.  short  stature.    A.  S.  under — 

Tweye,  adj.,  two.    A.  S.  twegen.         growan. 

Tweyne,    adj.,    twain.      A.    S.  Undern,  n.,  about  nine  to  ten  in 

twegen.  the  morning.     A.  S. 

Twigges,  n.,  plu.,  twigs.     A.  S.  Undernethe,  prep.,  underneath. 

twig.  Understonde,  v.,  understand.    A. 
Twight,    p.    p.,    twitched,    dis-        S.  understandan. 

traught;    Twighte,    v.,    pret.,  Undertake,  v.,  undertake,  affirm. 

twitched.    FroraTwicche.    A.        A.  S.  under — tacan. 

S.  twiccian.  Undo,    v.,    unfold,    reveal,    un- 
Twinkeling,  s.,  twinkling.    A.  S.        fasten.     A.  S.  undon. 

twinclian.  Unespyed,    p.    p.,    undetected. 
Twinne,  v.,  sever,  part,  separate.        A.  S.  un — espier. 

Twyes,  adv.,  twice.  Unethe,  Unethes,  adv.,  scarcely, 
Twyn,  n.,  twine.     A.  S.  twin.  with  difficulty.     A.  S.  un— 

Twyne,  v.,  twine.  eacSe. 

Tyde,   n.,    time,    hour.      A.   S.  Unfamous,   adj.,    lost   to   fame, 

tid  /.  forgotten    by    fame.      A.    S. 

Tyde,  v.,  befall,  happen.     A.  S.        un — L.  famosus. 

tidan.  Unfettre,    v.,    unfetter,    release. 

Tydinge,    n.,    tiding,    piece    of  Unholsom,    adj.,    ailing,    weak. 

news.  A.  S.  un — hal — sum. 

Tygre,  n.,  tiger.    0.  F.  tigre.  Unkinde,  adj.,  unnatural,  cruel. 
Tyme,  n.,  time.     A.  S.  tima.  A.  S.  un — cynde. 

Tyraunt,     n.,     tyrant.      0.     F.  Unkist,  adj.,  unkissed. 

tirant.  Unknowe,  p.  p.,  unknown.     A. 
Tythes,  n.,  plu.,  tithes.     A.  S.        S.  un — cnawan. 

teofia.  Unkonning,      adj.,      unskillful, 
Tytus,    Dictys    Cretensis:    sup-        stupid. 

posed    warrior    against     Troy  Unkouth,  adj.,  see  Uncouth. 

and  author  of  a  history  of  the  Unmanned,    n.,    unmanly    act. 

Trojan  war,  of  which  the  chief        A.  S.  un — man — had. 

extant   version  is,   if  genuine,  Unmerie,  adj.,  sad.     A.  S.  un — 

a  fourth  century  Latin  trans-        mirige. 


GLOSSARY  497 

Unnethe,    Unnethes,    adv.,    see  From  Up-heve.     A.  S.  up — 

Unethe.  hebban. 

Unpinne,    v.,    unpin,    unfasten.  Upright,  adv.,  upright,  lying  with 

Unreste,  n.,  unrest,  restlessness.  the  face  upward.     A.  S.  up- 

A.  S.  un— rsest  /.  riht. 

Unright,  n.,  wrong,  injury.  Up-rist,  v.,  third  pers.  sing.,  pres. 

Unsad,  adj.,  unsettled,  unsteady,  indie.,  rises  up.     A.  S.  up — 

fickle.    A.  S.  unsaed.  risan. 

Unsely,    adj.,    unhappy,    unfor-  Up-rist,  n.,  up-rising. 

tunate.     A.  S.  unsselig.  Upryght,  adv.,  see  Upright. 

Unshette,    v.,    pret.,    unlocked;  Up-so-doun,  adv.,  upside  down. 

p.  p.,  as  adj.,  not  shut.    A.  S.  Upsterte,     Upstirte,     v.,     pret., 

un — scyttan.  started    up,     arose.       A.    S. 

Unsittinge,  pres.  partic.  as  adj.,  up — styrtan. 

unfit.     A.  S.  un— sittan.  Up-yaf,    v.,    pret.   sing.,    yielded 

Unswelle,    v.,    decrease    in    ful-  up,     gave.       From    Up-yeve. 

ness,    subside.      A.    S.    un —  A.  S.  up — giefan. 

swellan.  Up-yolden,    p.    p.,    yielded    up. 

Unswete,    adj.,    bitter.      A.    S.  From  Up-yelde.     A.  S.  up — 

un — swete.  gieldan. 

Unteyd,  p.  p.,  untied.     A.   S.  Urne,  n.,   urn.     L.  urna. 

untigan.  Usage,  n.,  usage,  custom,  habit. 

Unthank,   n.,    want    of   thanks,  O.  F. 

the  reverse  of  thanks.     A.  S.  Usaunce,    n.,    custom.      O.    F. 

unj>anc.  usance. 

Unthrift,  n.,  extravagance,  folly.  Usure,  n.,  usury.    F. 

Unthrifty,  adj.,  profitless.  Uttereste,  adj.,  uttermost. 
Untressed,    adj.,    not    done    up 

into  tresses,  unarranged.  " 

Untrewe,     adj.,     untrue,     false;  Vacacioun,     n.,     leisure,     spare 

adv.,  untruly.    A .  S.  untreowe.  time.     0.  F.  vacation. 

Untrouthe,  n.,   untruth,   deceit,  Vache,  n.,  cow,  beast.     0.  F. 

faithlessness.      A.    S.    untre-  Vache,  Sir  Philip  la  Vache:   a 

owt5/.  distinguished   contemporary   of 

Unwar,  adj.,  unaware;  adv.,  un-  Chaucer,  —  soldier,        courtier, 

expectedly.     A.  S.  unwaer.  Knight  of  the  Garter,  keeper  of 

Unwist,   adj.,   unknown,   unwit-  the  royal  manor  and  park  of 

ting.  Woodstock     and    of    Chili 'ern, 

Unwitingly,  adv.,  unwittingly.  married   to    Elizabeth    Clifford 

Unwrye,     v.,     uncover,     reveal.  (daughter  of  Sir  Lewis  Clifford}. 

A.  S.  unwreon.  Valence:    Valence    near    Lyons, 

Unyolden,  p.  p.,  without  having  France;  or  possibly  a  reference 

yielded.     A.  S.  un — gieldan.  to   Valenciennes  lace. 

Up,  prep.,  on,  upon.  A.  S.  Valerie:  a  reference  to  the  Medieval 

Up-born,  p.  p.,  upborne,  valued.  Latin    treatise    "De    non    du- 

A.  S.  up — beran.  cenda   uxore"    which   was   en- 

Up-bounde,    p.    p.,    bound    up.  titled  Epistola  Valerii  ad  Ru- 

A.  S.  up — bindan.  finum. 

Up-breyde,  v.,  upbraid,  reproach.  Valeye,  n.,  valley.    0.  F.  valee. 

A.  S.  up— bregdan.  Vanisshinge,  s.,   vanishing.     0. 

Up-caste,   v.,   cast   up,   lift   up.  F.  vanir. 

A.  S.  up—0.  N.  kasta.  Vanitee,  n.,  vanity,  folly.    O.  F. 

Up-haf,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  uplifted.  vanite. 


498 


GLOSSARY 


Variacioun,  n.,  variation,  differ- 

ence.     O.  F.  variacion. 
Varie,   v.,    vary,    change,    shift. 

0.  F.  varier. 

Vasselage,  n.,   prowess.     0.   F. 
Vavasour,    n.,    sub-vassal,    next 

in  dignity  to  a  baron.    O.  F. 

vavassour. 
Venerye,    n.,    hunting.      0.    F. 

veneiie. 

Venim,  n.,  venom,  poison.    0.  F. 
Venimous,  adj.,  venomous,  poi- 

sonous.    A.  F. 
Venyse,  Venice. 
Ver,  n.,the  spring.     L. 
Verdit,  n.,  verdict.     0.  F. 
Vennine,  Vermyne,  n.,  vermin. 

A.  F.  vermine/. 
Vernicle,   n.,    vernicle:    a    small 

copy  of  the   picture  of  Christ 

which    was    miraculously    im- 

printed  upon  the  handkerchief 

of  Saint  Veronica.    O.  F. 
Verray,  Verrey,  adj.,  very,  true. 

0.  F.  verai. 

Verrayly,  adv.,  verily,  truly. 
Vers,  n.,  verse,  line.     A.  S.  fers; 

0.  F.  vers. 

Vertu,  n.,  virtue,  power.    A.  F. 
Vertuous,  adj.,  virtuous.     0.  F. 
Vese,  n.,  rush. 
Vesulus,  Monte  Viso. 
Veyl,  n.,  veil.     A.  F. 
Veyn,  adj.,  vain,  empty.    0.  F. 
Veyne,  n.,  vein.     O.  F.  veine. 
Viage,  n.,  voyage,  travel,  jour- 

ney.    0.  F. 
Vicair,  n.,  vicar,  deputy.    A.  F. 

vicare. 

Vicious,  adj.,  wicked.     0.  F. 
Victorie,  n.,  victory.    0.  F. 
Vigile,  n.,  vigil,  wake.     A.  F. 
Vigilies,  n.,  plu.,  vigils,  evening 

meetings    on    the    eve    of    a 

festival.     L.  vigilia. 
Vileinye,     n.,     villainy,     wrong, 

shameful  speech.     0.  F.  vil- 

einie. 

Virgile,  Virgilius,  Vergil. 
Virginitee,  n.,  virginity.     A.  F. 

virginite. 

Virgyle,  see  Virgile. 
Visitaciouns,  n.,  pZw.,  visits.  A.  F. 


Visyte,  v.,  visit.     0.  F.  visiter. 
Vitaille,  n.,  victuals,  provisions: 

0.  F. 

Vois,  n.,  see  Voys. 
Vouche  sauf,  v.,  vouchsafe,  grant, 

permit.     0.  F.  vochier  —  sauf. 
Voyde,  v.,  get  rid  of,  expel,  de- 

part  from.     0.  F.  voidier. 
Voys,  n.,   voice,    report.     0.   F. 

vois. 

Vulcano,  Vulcanus,  Vulcan. 
Vyce,  n.,  fault,  error.     A.  F. 
Vyne,  n.,  vine.    0.  F.  vine. 
w 

Waast,  n.,  waist. 

Wade:  son  of  Weyland  in  Teu- 

tonic    mythology.      Wade    and 

his  boat  are  referred  to  in  the 

Merchant's  Tale,  L  1424. 
Wade,  v.,  wade,  go,  pass.     A.  S. 

wadan. 
Wafereres,  n.,  plu.,  makers   of 

wafer-cakes,     confectioners. 
Waite,  v.,  wait,  attend,  watch. 

0.  F.  waitier. 
Wake,  v.,  be  awake,  lie  awake, 

watch,  awake.     A.  S.  wacan. 
Wake-pleyes,    n.,    plu.,    funeral 

games.    —  A.  S.  plega. 
Waker,  adj.,   vigilant.     A.  S. 

wacor. 
Wakned,  p.  p.,  awakened.    A.S. 

waecnan. 

Wai,  n.,  wall.    A.  S.  weall. 
Walakye,     Wallachia:     part     of 

Roumania. 
Walsh-note,  n.,  walnut.     A.  S. 

wealhhnutu. 
Walwe,  v.,  wallow,  roll.     A.  S. 

wealwian. 
Wanhope,    n.,    despair.      A.   S. 

wan  —  hopa. 

Wanie,  v.,  wane.    A.  S.  wanian. 
Wante,   v.,  be  wanting,   be  ab- 

sent,  fail,  lack.     0.   N.  vanta. 
Wantoun,      adj.,      unrestrained, 

wanton. 
Wantownesse,    n.,    wantonness, 

willfulness. 
War,  adj.,  prudent,  discreet,  cau- 

tious.     A.  S.  waer. 
Wardein,  n.,  warden.     0.  F. 


GLOSSARY  499 

Ware,  v.,  beware.     A.  S.  warian.  Welken,  n.,  welkin,  heaven,  sky. 
Warente,   v.,    warrant,    orotect.        A.  S.  wolcen. 

0.  F.  warantir.  Welle,  n.,  well,   source,   spring. 
Warisshe,  v.,  cure,  recover.     0.        A.  S.  wella. 

F.  warir.  Welle-stremes,    n.,    plu.,    well- 
Warly,  adv.,  warily.  springs.    A.  S.  wella — stream. 

Waryce,  v.,  see  Warisshe.  Wende,    v.,    go,    pass.      A.    S. 
Wasshe,  v.,  wash.    A.  S.  wascan.        wendan. 

Wast,  n.,  waste.     O.  F.  Wene,    n.,    expectation,    doubt. 
Waste,  adj.,  plu.,  wasted,  par-        A.  S.  wen/. 

tially  destroyed.     O.  F.  wast.  Wene,  v.,   ween,   suppose,   con- 
Wastel-breed,    n.,     cake-bread,        sider.     A.  S.  wenan. 

bread    of   the   finest    quality.  Wenged,  adj.,  winged. 

0.  F.  wastel — A.  S.  bread.  Went,  v.,  third  pers.  sing.,  pres. 
Watering,  n.,  watering-place  (for        indie.;  p.  p.;  see  Wende. 

horses).  Wente,  v.,   prel.,   see  Wende. 

Waterlees,  adj.,  without  water.  Wente,  n.,  turn,  path,  passage. 

A.  S.  waeterleas.  Wepe,  v.,  weep.     A.  S.  wepan. 

Wawe,  n.,  wave.  Wepen,  n.,  weapon.     A.  S.  wse- 
Waxe,   v.,   wax,    grow.      A.   S.        pen. 

weaxan.  Wer,  n.,  doubt,  distress. 

Wayk,  adj.,  weak.    0.  N.  veikr.  Werbul,  n.,  tune. 

Wayke,  v.,  weaken,  lessen.  Werche,  v.,  work,  perform,  make. 
Wayle,  v.,  wail.  A.  S.  wyrcan. 

Waymentinge,    «.,    lamentation.  Were,  n.,  weir.     A.  S.  wer. 

0.  F.  waimenter.  Were,  v.,  wear.     .4.  S.  werian. 

Wayte,  v.,  see  Waite.  Were,  v.,  defend.    A.  S.  werian. 

Webbe,     n.,     weaver.     A.     S.  Werk,  n.,  work,  act.    A.  S.  were. 

webba.  Werke,  v.,  see  Werche. 

Wedde,  n.,  dat.,  pledge.     A.  S.  Werne,    v.,    refuse,     warn    off. 

wedd.  A.  S.  wyrnan. 

Wede,  n.,   weed,   robe.      A.  S.  Werre,  n.,  war,  tumult.     A.  S. 

wsede.  Werreye,  r.,  make  war.     A.  F. 
Weder,  n.,  weather,  storm.     A.        werreier. 

S.  Wers,  adj.,  adv.,  compar.,  worse. 
Wedlok,    n.,    wedlock.      A.    S.        A.  S.  wyrsa. 

wed-lac.  Werste,     adj.,     superl.,     worst. 
Weel,   adv.,   well.      A.   8.   wel.        A.  S.  wyrst. 

See  Wel.  Werte,  n.,  wart.     A.  S.  wearte. 

Weep,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Wepe.  Wery,  adj.,  weary.    A.  S.  werig. 

Wel,  adv.,  well.    A.S.   See  Weel.  Wesh,  Wessh,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see 
Welawey,  inter j.,  wellaway!  alas!        Wasshe. 

Welcome,  adj.,  welcome.     A.  S.  Weste,    v.,    turn    to    the    west, 

wilcuma.  draw  near  to  the  west. 

Weldy,  adj.,  wieldy,  active.  Westre,  v.,  go  to  the  west. 

Wele,  n.,  weal,  happiness,  pros-  Wete,  adj.,  wet.     A.  S.  w*t. 

perity.     A.  S.  wela.  Wex,  n.,  wax.    A.  S.  weax. 

Welfaringe,  pres.  partic.  as  adj.,  Wex,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Waxe. 

thriving,    prosperous.      A.   S.  Wexe,  v.,  see  Waxe. 

wel — faran.  Wey,  n.,  way.     A.  S.  weg. 

Welk,    v.,    pret.    sing.,    walked.  Weye,  v.,  weigh.     A.  S.  wegan. 

From  Walke.     A.  S.  wealcan.  Weylaway,  Weylawey,  interj.,  see 
Welked,  p.  p.,  withered.  Welawey. 


500 


GLOSSARY 


Weymentinge,     s.,     see     Way- 

mentinge. 
Weyye,  v.,  waive,  neglect,  put 

aside.    0.  F.  weiver. 
Whan,  adv.,  when.  A.S.hwarme. 
Whenne,  adv.,  whence.     A.  S. 

hwanon. 

Wher,  adv.,  where.  A.  S.  hwser. 
Wher,  contracted  form  of  Whether. 
Wher-as,  adv.,  where  that,  where. 
Wherfore,  adv.,  con/.,  where- 

fore.   A.  S.  hwar—  fore. 
Wherin,  adv.,  wherein,  in  which. 
Wher-so,  adv.,  whether,  where- 

soever. 
Wher-through,   adv.,   by  means 

of  which. 
Wherto,  adv.,  for  what  purpose, 

why. 

Whete,  n.,  wheat.  A.  S.  hwsete. 
Whetston,  n.,  whet-stone.  A.  S. 

hwetstan. 
Whette,    p.    p.,    plu.,    whetted. 

A.  S.  hwettan. 
Whider,   adv.,   whither.      A.  S. 

hwider. 

Whippe,  n.,  whip. 
Whippeltree,   n.,    cornel-tree   or 

dogwood. 
Whistelinge,  s.,  whistling  sound. 

A.  S.  hwistlian. 
Who-so,  pron.,  whoever. 
Whyl,  con/.,  while.     A.  S.  hwfl. 
Whyle,  n.,  while,  time.     A.  S. 


Whyles,  n.,  gen.  sing,  as  adv.,  see 

Whyle. 

Whylom,  adv.,  once,  formerly. 
Whyt,  adj.,  white.    A.  S.  hwit, 
Whyte,  v.,  whiten,  grow  white. 
Whytter,  adj.,  compar.,  see  Whyt. 
Widwe,n.,  widow.  A.£.widuwe. 
Wierdes,  n.,  plu.,  fates.     A.  S. 

wyrd. 
Wight,  n.,  person,  creature,  man. 

A.S.vriht. 
Wighte,  n.,  weight.    A.  S.  wiht 

/•   (?) 

Wike,  n.,  see  Wouke. 
Wikke,  adj.,  evil,  wicked,  bad. 
Wikkedly,  adv.,  wickedly. 
Wikkednesse,  n.,  wickedness. 
WU,  n.,  see  Wille. 


Wil,  v.,  first  and  third  pers.  sing., 

pres.  indie.,  will.    A.  S.  willan. 

See  Wol. 
Wilfully,  adv.,  willingly,  of  free 

will,  purposely. 
Wille,    n.,    own    accord,    will, 

desire.     A .  S.  will ; ,  willa. 
Wilne,  v.,  desire,  wish.     A.  S. 

wilnian. 
Wilow,  n.,   willow-tree.     A.  S. 

welig. 
Wiltow,   v.,    pron.,    second   pres. 

sing.,  pres.  indie.,  wilt  thou. 

See  Wil. 
Wimpel,  n.,  wimple;  a  covering 

for    the   head,    gathered    round 

it  and  plaited  under  the  chin. 

A.S. 
Wind-melle,  n.,   wind-mill.    A. 

S.  wind — myln. 
Windowe,  n.,   window.     O.  N. 

vindauga. 
Winke,  v.,  wink,  shut  the  eyes, 

fall  asleep.     A.  S.  wincian. 
Winne,  v.,  win,  gain,  attain  to. 

A.  S.  winnan. 
Winning,  s.,  gain,  profit. 
Wirche,  v.,  see  Werche. 
Wis,  adv.,  certainly,  surely.     A. 

S.  wiss. 
Wisly,  adv.,  certainly,  surely.    A. 

S.  wisslice. 
Wisse,  v.,  instruct,  guide.    A.  S. 

wissian. 

Wisshe,  v.,  wish.    A.  S.  wyscan. 
Wist,  p.  p.;  Wiste,  v.,  pret.;  see 

Wite. 
Wit,  n.,  reason,   understanding, 

intelligence.     A.  S.' 
Wite,  v.,  know,  wit.    A.  S.  witan. 
Withholde,  v.,  retain,  shut  up. 

A.  S.  wi5 — heal  dan. 
With-inne,  adv.,  within.     A.  S. 

wit5innan. 
Withoute,  Withouten,  adv.,  prep., 

without.    A.  S.  wiSutan. 
Withseye,   v.,    contradict,    gain- 
say.    A.  S.  wiftsecgan. 
Witinge,     s.,     knowledge.       See 

Wite.     A.  S.  witan. 
Wlatsom,   adj.,    loathsome,    hei- 
nous.   A.  S.  wlaetta — sum. 
Wo,  n.,  woe.     A.  S.  wa. 


GLOSSARY  501 

Wode,  n.,  wood.    A.  S.  wudu.  Worm-foul,  n.,  birds  which  eat 

Wode-binde,  n.,  woodbine.     A.  worms.     A.  S.  wunn — fugol. 

S.  wudubinde.  Worship,  n.,  praise,  honor,  dig- 

Wode-craft,  n.,  woodcraft.     A.  nity.     A.  S.  weorSscipe. 

S.  wudu — craeft.  Worshipe,  v.,  reverence,  respect. 

Wodnesse,  n.,   see  Woodnesse.  Worshipful,       adj.,       respected, 

Wol,  v.,  first  and  third  pers.  sing.,  worthy  of  honor. 

pres.  indie.,  will,  desire.    A.  S.  Wortes,  n.,  plu.,  herbs.     A.  S. 

willan.    SeeWil.  wyrt. 

Wolde,  v.,  pret.,  see  Wol.  Worthe,  v.,  become,  be.     A.  S. 

Wolle,  n.,  wool.    A.  S.  wulle.  weor<5an. 

Woln,  v.,  pres.  plu.,  see  Wol.  Worthinesse,  n.,  worth,  worthi- 

Wombe,  n.,  belly.    A.  S.  womb  ness. 

/.  Wost,  v.,  second  pers.  sing.,  pres. 

Womman,   n.,   woman.      A.   S,  indie.,  see  Wite. 

wifman.  Wostow,  v.,   pron.,  second  pers. 

Wommanhede,  n.,  womanhood.  sing.,  pres.  indie.,  see  Wite. 

A.  S.  wifman — had.  Wot,   v.,  first   pers.   sing.,   pres. 

Wommanliche,    adj.,    womanly.  indie.,  see  Wite. 

A.  S.  wifman — lice.  Wouke,  n.,  week.     A.  S.  wucu. 

Wommannisshe,  adj.,  plu.,  worn-  Wounde,     n.,     wound,     plague. 

anish.     A.  S.  wifman — isc.  A.  S.  wund  /. 

Wonder,   adj.,   wonderful;   adv.,  Wowe,  v.,  woo.     A.  S.  wogian. 

wondrously.     A.  S.   wundor.  Woxen,  p.  p.,  see  Waxe. 

Wonderly,      adv.,      wondrously,  Wrappe,  v.,  wrap,  cover. 

strangely.  Wrastling,  s.,  wrestling.     A.  S. 

Wondre,    v.,    wonder.      A.    S.  wrastlian. 

wundrian.  Wrathe,  v.,  render  angry.    A.  S. 

Wone,  n.,  custom,  usage.    A.  S.  gewraolan. 

gewuna.  Wratthe,  n.,  anger,  wrath.     A. 

Wone,  v.,  dwell,  inhabit.    A.  S.  S.  wraeStSo. 

wunian.  Wratthed,  p.  p.,  see  Wrathe. 

Woning,    s.,    habitation,    house.  Wrecche,  n.,  wretch,   sorrowful 

A.  S.  wunung.  creature.     A.  S.  wrecca. 

Wood,  adj.,  mad,  raving.    A.  S.  Wrecche,  adj.,  wretched. 

wod.  Wreche,  n.,  vengeance,  punish- 

Woodly,  adv.,  madly.  ment.     A.  S.  wrsec  /. 

Woodnesse,  n.,  madness,   rage.  Wree,  v.,  cover,  clothe.     A.  S. 

A.  S.  wodness  /.  wreon. 

Wook,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Wake.  Wreeth,  n.,  wreath.    A.S.  wrseS. 

Woon,     n.,     resource,     retreat,  Wreke,  v.,  wreak,  avenge.     A. 

shelter,  dwelling.  S.  wrecan. 

Wool,  v.,  first  pers.  sing.,  pres.  Wreker,  n.,  avenger. 

indie.,  see  Wite.  Wreste,     v.,     constrain,     force. 

Worcheth,  v.,   third  pers.  sing.,  A.  S.  wrsestan. 

pres.  indie.,  see  Werche.  Wreye,  v.,  bewray,  reveal.    A.  S. 

Worching,    s.,    working,    influ-  wregan. 

ence.     See  Worcheth.  Wrighte,  n.,   workman.     A.  S. 

Word,  n.,  word.     A.  S.  wyrhta. 

Word  and  ende,  beginning  and  Wringe,  v.,  wring,  squeeze,  force. 

end.     A.  S.  ord.     See  Ende.  A.  S.  wringan. 

Worm,  n.,  worm,  snake.     A.  S.  Writ,  v.,  third  pers.  sing.,  pres. 

wunn.  indie.,  see  Wryte. 


502 


GLOSSARY 


Wroght,  p.  p.;  Wroghte,  v.,  pret., 

see  Werche. 

Wroken,  p.  p.,  see  Wreke. 
Wrong,  n.,  wrong.    A.  S.  wrang. 

Had  wrong,  was  wrong. 
Wroot,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Wryte. 
Wrooth,     adj.,     wroth,     angry. 

A.  S.  wraS. 
Wrought,  p.  p.;  Wroughte,  v., 

pret.,  see  Werche. 
Wrye,    v.,    cover,    clothe,    hide. 

A.  S.  wreon.     See  Wree. 
Wrye,  v.,  turn  aside,  turn,  go. 

A.  S.  wrigian. 

Wryte,  v.,  write.    A.  S.  writan. 
Wryting,    n.,    writing.      A.    S. 

writing. 

Wyd,  adj.,  wide.     A.  S.  wid. 
Wyde,  adv.,  widely,  far.     A.  S. 

wide. 

Wyf,  n.,  woman,  wife.    A.  S.  wif. 
Wyfly,  adv.,  womanly,  wife-like. 

A.  S.  wiflic. 
Wyke,  n.,  see  Wouke. 
Wyle,  n.,  wile,  plot,  guile. 
Wyn,  n.,  wine.     A.  S.  win. 
Wyped,  v.,  pret.,  wiped.     From 

Wype.    A.  S.  wipian. 
Wyr,  n.,  wire.     A.  S.  wir. 
Wys,  adj.,  wise,  prudent.    A.  S. 

wis.    Make  it  wys,  make  it  a 

subject  for  deliberation,  hesi- 
tate. 
Wyse,  n.,  way,  manner.     A.  S. 

wise. 

Wysly,  adv.,  wisely. 
Wyte,  n.,  blame,  reproach.     A. 

S.  wite. 
Wyte,  v.,  blame,  reproach.     A. 

S.  witan. 
Wyve,  v.,  wive,  marry.     A.  S. 

wifian. 
Wyves,  n.,  gen.,  see  Wyf. 

Y 

Yaf,  v.,  pret.  sing.,  see  Yeve. 
Yate,  n.,  gate.     A.  S.  geat 
Yave,  v.,  pret.,  see  Yeve. 
Y-bathed,  p.  p.,  bathed.     A.  S. 

baSian. 

Y-been,  p.  p.,  been.    See  Ben. 
Y-beten,  p.  p.,  beaten,  forged. 

See  Bete, 


Y-blent,    p.    p.,    blinded.      See 

Blende. 
Y-blowe,  p.  p.,   blown.     A.  S. 

blawan. 

Y-boren,  p.  p.,  born.    See  Bere. 
Y-bought,    p.    p.,    bought.      See 

Beye. 
Y-bounden,  p.  p.,  bound.    From 

Binde.     A.  S.  bindan. 
Y-brend,  Y-brent,  p.  p.,  burnt. 

See  Brenne. 
Y-broght,   p.   p.,   brought.     See 

Broght. 
Y-broken,   p.   p.,   broken.     See 

Breke. 
Y-buried,  p.  p.,  buried.     A.  S. 

byrgan. 
Y-caried,    p.    p.,    carried.      F. 

charrier. 
Y-chaped,  p.  p.,  furnished  with 

chapes  or  metal  caps  (which 

were  placed  at  the  end  of  the 

sheath) . 

Y-cheyned,  p.  p.,  chained. 
Y-clenched,  p.  p.,  clinched,  riv- 
eted.      A.  S.  clencan. 
Y-cleped,  p.  p.,  called,  named. 

A.  S.  cleopian. 
Y-closed,  p.  p.,  closed. 
Y-clothed,  p.  p.,  clothed.    A.  S. 

clablan. 
Y-comen,    p.    p.,     come.      See 

Com. 

Y-corven,  p.  p.,  cut.    See  Kerve. 
Y-coyned,  p.  p.,  coined.     O.  F. 

coignier. 
Y-crammed,    p.    p.,    crammed. 

A.  S.  crammian. 
Y-crased,  p.  p.,  cracked,  broken. 
Y-darted,  p.  p.,  pierced  with  a 

dart. 
Ydel,    adj..    idle,    empty,    vain. 

A.  S.  idel. 
Ydelly,  adv.,  idly. 
Ydelnesse,  n.,  idleness.     A.  S. 

idelness  /. 

Y-doon,  p.  p.,  dene.    See  Do. 
Y-drawe,    p.    p.,    drawn.      See 

Drow. 

Y-dressed,    p.    p.,    dressed,    ar- 
ranged.    See  Dresse. 
Y-driven,    p.    p.,    driven.      See 

Dryve. 


GLOSSARY 


503 


Y-dropped,  p.  p.,  covered  with 

drops.     A.  S.  dropan. 
Ye,  n.,  eye.     A.  S.  cage. 
Ye,  adv.,  yea. 
Yeddinges,  n.,  plu.,  songs.    A.  S. 

geddung  /. 
Yede,  v.,  pret.,  walked,  went.    A. 

S.  code. 

Yeer,  n.,  year.    A.  S.  gear. 
Yef,  v.,  imper.  sing.,  see  Yeve. 
Yelde,  v.,  yield,  pay.  A.S.  gildan. 
Yeldhalle,  n.,    guild-hall.    A.S. 

gield— heall  /. 
Yelding,    s.,     produce.     A.    S. 

gildan. 
Yelleden,  v.,   pret.   plu.,   yelled. 

From  Yelle.    A.  S.  giellan. 
Yelownesse,  n.,  yellowness. 
Yelpe,  v.,  boast,  prate.     A.  S. 

gilpan. 
Yelt,  v.,  third  pers.  sing.,   pres. 

indie.,  see  Yelde. 
Yelwe,  adj.,  yellow.    A.S.  geolu. 
Yeman,  n.,  yeoman. 
Yemanly,  adv.,  in  a  yeomanlike 

manner. 

Yen,  n.,  plu.,  see  Ye. 
Yerd,  n.,  yard,  garden.     A.  S. 

geard. 
Yerde,    n.,    rod,    stick.      A.  S. 

gerd  /. 

Yere,  n.,  dat.,  see  Yeer. 
Yerne,  adj.,  eager,  brisk,  lively. 

A.  S.  geom. 
Yerne,    adv.,    eagerly,    quickly, 

soon.    A.S.  georne. 
Yerne,    v.,    yearn    for,    desire. 

A.  S.  gyrnan. 
Yeve,  w.,  give.    A .  S.  giefan.  See 

Yive. 

Y-fallen,  p.p.,  fallen.     See  Falle. 
Y-faren,  p.  p.,  gone.     See  Fare. 
Y-fere,  adv.,  together. 
Y-fetered,  p.  p.,  fettered.    A.  S. 

feterian. 
Y-feyned,  p.p.,  feigned,  invented, 

feigned  to  be  done,  pretended. 

See  Feyne. 

Y-finde,  v.,  find.    A.  S.  gefindan. 
Y-folowed,  p.  p.,  followed.    See 

Folwe. 
Y-formed,    p.    p.,    formed.      F. 

former. 


Y-fostred,  p.  p.,  fostered.     See 

Fostre. 

Y-founde,  p.  p.,  see  Y-finde. 
Y-founded,  p.  p.,  founded,  based. 

F.  fonder. 

Y-glased,  p.  p.,  glazed. 
Y-goon,  p.  p.,  gone.    See  Goon. 
Y-graunted,  p.  p.,  granted.    See 

Graunte. 
Y-grave,    p.    p.,    dug    up,    cut, 

engraved,  buried.    See  Grave. 
Y-grounde,  p.  p.,  ground,  sharp- 
ened.    See  Grint. 
Y-grounded,  p.  p.,  grounded. 
Y-halowed,  p.  p.,  view-hallooed. 

0.  F.  halloer. 

Y-hed,  p.  p.,  hidden.    See  Hyde. 
Y-hent,    p.    p.,    seized,    caught. 

See  Hente. 

Y-here,  v.,  hear.    A.  S.  gehyran. 
Y-heried,  p.  p.,  praised.     A.  S. 

geherian. 

Y-hurt,  p.  p.,  hurt. 
Y-hight,  p.  p.,  called.    See  Hote. 
Y-holde,  p.  p.,  held,  esteemed, 

restrained.    See  Holde. 
Y-iaped,  p.  p.,  jested.    See  lape. 
Yif,  con/.,  if.     A.  S.  gif. 
Yif,  v.,  imper.  sing.,  see  Yive. 
Yifte,  n.,  gift.    A.S.  gift/. 
Yis,  yes  (emphatic}.    A.  S.  gise. 
Yit,  adv.}  yet,  nevertheless.     A. 

S.  giet. 
Yive,   v.,   give.      A.   S.   giefan. 

See  Yeve. 
Y-kist,    p.    p.,    kissed.      A.    S. 

cyssan.    See  Kesse. 
Y-knowe,    v.,    know,    recognize. 

A.  S.  gecnawan. 

Y-korven,  p.  p.,  cut.    See  Kerve. 
Y-lad,  p.  p.,  led.    See  Lede. 
Y-laft,  p.  p.,  left.    See  Leve. 
Y-liche,  adj.,  plu.,  see  Y-lyk. 
Y-liche,    adv.,    alike,    similarly. 

A.  S.  gelice.     See  Y-lyke. 
Y-lissed,  p.p.,  eased.    See Lisse. 
Y-lived,    p.    p.,    lived.      A.    S. 

libban. 
Y-logged,  p.  p.,  lodged.     0.  F. 

logier. 

Y-lorn,  p.  p.,  lost.    A.  S.  leosan. 
Y-loved,   p.   p.,   loved.      A.   S. 

lufian. 


504 


GLOSSARY 


Y-lyk,  adj.,  like,  alike.     A.  S. 

gelic.    SeeY-liche. 
Y-lyke,  adv.,  alike,  equally.     A. 

S.  gelice.    See  Y-liche. 
Y-maad,   p.   p.,    made,    caused. 

See  Make,  Y-maked. 
Ymageries,     n.,     plu.,     images, 

carved  work.    0.  F.  imagerie. 
Y-maked,    p.    p.,    made.      See 

Make,  Y-maad. 
Y-marked,  p.  p.,  marked.    A.  S. 

mearcian. 
Y-ment,   p.    p.,    intended.     See 

Mene. 

Y-met,  p.  p.,  met.    See  Mete. 
Y-meynd,  p.  p.,  mixed,  mingled. 

From  Menge.    A.  S.  mengan. 
Y-mused,    p.    p.,     mused,     re- 
flected.   See  Muse. 
Y-nogh,  adj.,  enough,  sufficient; 

adv.,  enough,  sufficiently.     A. 

S.  genoh. 
Y-nome,  p.  p.,  caught,  overcome. 

From   Nime.      A.   S.   niman. 

See  Nome. 
Y-norisshed,    p.    p.,    educated, 

nurtured.     O.  F.  norir. 
Yok,  n.,  yoke.    A.  S.  geoc. 
Yolden,  p.  p.,  see  Yelde. 
Yolle,  v.,  yell,  cry  out. 
Yond,    adv.,     yonder.       A.    S. 

geond. 

Yong,  adj.,  young.    A.  S.  geong. 
Yore,    adv.     formerly,     of    old. 

A.  S.  geara. 

Youling,  s.,  howling,  loud  lam- 
entation. 
Youthe,  n.,  youth.    A.  S.  geoguS 

Yow,    pron.,    dot.,    accus.,    you. 

A.  S.  eow  (dot.,  accus.,  of  ge). 
Y-payed,  p.  p.,  paid.    See  Paye. 
Ypermistre,  Hypennnestra:  Da- 

naus's  daughter,  saved  her  hus- 
band's life. 

Y-pleyned,  p.  p.,  complained. 
See  Pleyne. 

Y-pleynted,  p.  p.,  full  of  com- 
plaint. 

Ypocras,  Hippocrates:  a  Greek 
physician  of  the  fifth  century 

B.  C. 

Ypocras,  n.,  a  kind  of  cordial. 


Y-prayed,   p.    p.,    invited.     See 

Preye. 
Y-preised,   p.   p.,   praised.     See 

Preise. 
Y-preved,    p.    p.,    proved.     See 

Preye. 
Y-punisshed,    p.    p.,    punished. 

F.  punir. 
Y-raft,   p.    p.,    bereft,    snatched 

away.    See  Reve. 
Yre,  n.,  ire,  anger.     F.  ire. 
Y-red,  p.  p.,  read.    See  Rede. 
Yren,  n.,  iron.     A.  S.  iren. 
Y-rent,  p.  p.,  torn,  taken.    A.  S. 

rendan. 
Y-ronge,    p.    p.,    rung.      ^4.    5. 

hringan. 
Y-ronne,  p.  p.,  run,  run  together. 

A.  S.  rinnan.     See  Renne. 
Y-rouned,  p.  p.,  whispered.    See 

Roune. 

Y-sayd,  p.  p.,  said.     See  Seye. 
Yse,  n.,  dat.,  ice.     A.  5.  is. 
Y-see,   v.,    see,   behold.     A.   S. 

geseon. 
Y-sene,    ad/.,    visible.      A     S. 

gesene.     See  Sene. 
Y-sent,  p.  p.,  sent.    A.  S.  sendan. 
Y-served,  p.  p.,  served.     O.  F. 

servir. 
Y-set,  p.  p.,  set,  placed.     A.  S. 

settan. 

Y-seye,  p.  p.,   see  Y-see. 
Y-seyled,  p.  p.,  sailed.     A.  S. 

seglian. 
Y-shapen,  p.  p.,  prepared.     See 

Shape. 
Y-shave,  p.  p.,  shaven.     4.  S. 

sceafan. 
Y-shette,  p.  p.,  plu.,  shut.     See 

Shette. 
Y-shewed,   p.   p.,    shown.     See 

Shewe. 
Y-shorn,    p.    p.,    shorn.      From 

Shere.     A.  S.  sceran. 
Y-shriven,  p.  p.,  shriven.    A.  S. 

serif  an. 
Ysiphile,    Hypsipyle:    loved   and 

deserted  by  Jason. 
Y-slawe,   Y-slayn,   p.   p.,    slain. 

See  Slee. 
Y-spnge,    p.    p.,    sung.      ^4.   S. 

singan. 


GLOSSARY 


505 


Y-sought,    p.    p.,    sought.      See 

Seke. 

Y-sowen,  p.p.,  sown.    See  Sowe. 
Y-sprad,    p.    p.,    spread.      See 

Sprede.    Cf.  Sprad. 
Y-spreynd,  p.  p.,  sprinkled.    See 

Springe  (weak}.    Cf.  Spreynd. 
Y-spronge,  p.   p.,   sprung,   shot 

out,    divulged.      See    Springe 

(strong}.  Cf.  Spronge. 
Y-stalled,  p.  p.,  installed. 
Y-stiked,  p.  p.,  stuck,  stabbed. 

See  Stike. 
Y-stonde,    p.    p.,    stood,    been. 

See  Stonde. 
Y-stonge,    p.    p.,    stung.      See 

Stongen. 

Y-storve,  p.  p.,  dead.   See  Sterve. 
Y-suffred,  p.  p.,  suffered.    0.  F. 

sufrir. 
Y-sworn,    p.    p.,    sworn.      See 

swere. 

Y-take,  p.  p.,  taken.     See  Tak. 
Y-taught,    p.    p.,    taught.      See 

Teche. 

Y-thee,  v.,  thrive.    A.  S.  gepeon. 
Y-thewed,  p.  p.,  disposed,  man- 
nered. 
Y-thonked,  p.  p.,  thanked.    See 

Thonke. 
Y-throwe,  p.  p.,  thrown.     A.  S. 

prawan. 

Y-tressed,  p.  p.,  plaited  in  tresses. 
Y-turned,  p.  p.,  turned.     A.  S. 

turnian. 


Yve,  n.,  see  Erbe. 

Yvel,  adj.,  evil,  ill.     A.  S.  yfel. 

Yvel,    adv.,    evilly,    ill.      A.   S. 

yfele. 

Yvoire,  n.,  ivory.     0.  F.  ivoire. 
Y-war,     adj.,     aware.      A.     S. 

gewaer. 
Y-warned,  p.  p.,  warned.    A.  S. 

warnian.     See  Werne. 
Y-waxen,  p.  p.,  grown,  become. 

iSeeWaxe. 
Y-wedded,  p.  p.,  wedded.     A. 

S.  weddian. 

Y-went,  p.  p.,  gone.    See  Wende. 
Y-wimpled,  p.  p.,  provided  with 

a  wimple. 
Y-wis,     adv.,     certainly,     truly. 

A.  S.  gewis. 
Y-wonne,    p.    p.,    gained,    won. 

See  Winne. 
Y-writen,    p.    p.,    written.     See 

Wryte. 
Y-wroght,  p.  p..  wrought,  made. 

See  Werche.     Cf.   Wroght. 
Y-wroken,  p.  p.,  avenged.       See 

Wreke.    Cf.  Wroken. 
Y-wryen,    p.    p.,    hidden.      See 

Wrye. 
Y-yive,  p.  p.,  given.     See  Yive. 


Zanzis,  Zeuxis:  a  Greek  painter 

of  about  420-390  B.  C. 
Zeles,  n.,  plu.,  zeal.     F.  zele. 
Z«phirus,  Zephyr:  the  west  wind. 


LOAN  DEPT. 


YB  75649 


